Final Destination 2 The Abridged Version
by Cici-inator
Summary: Bludworth freaks Kimberly [yay] and Sk8r Bois try to get down 'n' dirrty ... [UPDATED Chapter 8, FEB 19th]
1. Previously in Paris

**_Disclaimer: _**_No one from Final Destination and the sequel Final Destination 2 belongs to me. If I could have Ali Larter, it might spare Dharke's life some grief…or mine, even. So please, no one from those big scary lawyer companies come and sue my ass off for copyright infringement or anything like that cos I'm just a fan, writing a Fanfiction…and a fan with, ahem, no money. _

**Author's Notes:** All right. Here we go with another, potentially unfinished Cici sapfest of a fanfic series. Et viola, I have delivered. This is a total reworking of FD2, okay, the majority of dialogue should remain similar, partly because I am so unoriginal and can't make up a THING on my own. Call it lack of confidence, if you will. Everything in this piece is suited to my liking. You might not necessarily like it (so I am open up to criticism, or even, the occasional making fun of) but hey, you might be surprised. So, Alex was in the wrong place at the wrong time where a nice brick mushed his brain? Nah, don't think so. Not in my reality. Will Clear still be in that padded room, even with Alex alive? Will Carter eventually thank Alex for saving him from becoming a plate of crushed pomme de terres in some shit fancy French café? Will Cici ever shut the hell up on the longest 'Author's Notes' section in a FD fanfic…well, that has to happen or there'll be no fic…and on with the show. For Dharke, seeing as she was a huge help in giving me a little bit of confidence in how to write a whole series. 

_-- Paris, France, 2000 --_

"So who's next?"

The reply that Alex wanted to shout out in response to Carter's question did not seem to escape his lips. The oncoming, fast free falling neon Parisian Café sign plummeted closer to its target of Carter Horton and with its sheer swiftness, there seemed to be nothing the blond teenager could do. Like a child demanding attention, Carter's eyes pleaded with Alex for a reaction. From his silence, something was jarringly wrong. The only response Carter earned for his earlier overconfident assumption of tricking Death's Design was the loss of feeling in his legs. Or rather, a swift kick of Alex's left leg, swiped away the standing ability he had, and he fell to the ground, landing hard on his back, his head smacking on the hard cobbled street. 

Through the now blurry vision he had, caused from the temporary dazed state his head was suffering from, Carter craned his neck to see the falling sign hurtle into the side of a rundown wine factory and the neon filter crackling into complete darkness. Carter then turned to look at Alex; eyes wide. 

"Fuckin' hell Browning!" the jock exclaimed, shaking his head shamefully. "Can't you stay outta trouble for more than two fuckin' minutes?"

Carter winced slightly as he felt the warm blood trickling down the side of his face. He put a palm to his forehead and proceeded to check for any more injuries he might have sustained. 

"You're a lucky son-of-a-bitch, you know that?"

Alex didn't say anything, just concentrated on getting his breathing back to a steady pace. If he knew Carter as well as he thought he did, then the adrenaline would be coursing through his body like it did his at that very moment. All Carter could feel – or rather, hear – was his head pounding and the increased heartbeat echo in his ears. They had just cheated Death again. Carter's heroics had saved Alex from the inevitable that Death had so frequently sought in the passing months. And now, the pendulum had took a swing in another direction. Not to Carter, but to…

"Hey! Take your hands off me!"

Alex turned to see Clear yanking herself free from the protective arms of the French guitar player, holding her back from the almost near tragedy that had befallen the quaint Parisian town. She quickly ran over to where the boys were sitting, several inches away from the café and the quickly gathering flock of apprehensive spectators. 

"Are you two alright?"

Carter was first to surface to his feet, wincing loudly and now clutching at his lower back as well. 

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm not sure he is though." Alex said, motioning towards Carter with his head. Clear offered her boyfriend a hand, he took it, and rose to his feet as well. Carter watched the crowd from the corner of his eye. The waiter from the café neared him shyly, as if afraid touching him would mean some imminent death. Carter faced him fully and gave him a piercing look. He was not one for fuss. Or anyone's sympathy. He was just getting his life back on track until tonight. 

_'But no, that fuckin' square over there needs to question the Design. Ruin my vacation.'_ Carter mused. 

"I'm alright." He said in a tone hinting that he wasn't completely sure. "Let's go back to the hotel." 

Turning to the crowd, dusting off his pants, his growled: 

"Alright you French frogs, show's over. Finis! Comprende? Scram." 

Trying to walk in the direction of the _Hôtel Royal Saint Germain_, Clear noticed Carter limping. Either he was hurt more than he was letting on or he was just faking it in a selfish attempt to get away, now that they were sure that the Design had been revived. 

"You should get that checked out Carter," Clear said suspiciously. "Like, maybe take a trip to the hospital?"

Carter shook his head. "No. No hospitals. I just want to get back to my room, rest my back and then get the hell out of here as quickly as possible. Anywhere I go with the two of you seems to get me into trouble. And quite frankly, I'm sick of this Death bullshit."  

"'Bullshit?'" Alex echoed. "How is it bullshit when you come so close to having a falling sign embedded in your back? No more than five minutes ago, you were laughing and joking the Death was coming after me. Not you, _me_! And then when it does come back for you, you want to hide and give up?"

Carter stepped forward and with enough strength he could muster, grabbed Alex by the scruff of the hooded top he was wearing. He stared piercingly into his eyes, his cold blue ones working an angry fix with Alex's warmer, less angry blues. 

"Well I coulda let you get turned into a plate of mashed teeth! You fuckin' owe me, Browning! You have done ever since I managed to get us kicked off 180! Yeah, that's right, not you, _me_! If I hadn't got up to knock some goddamn sense into you then you wouldn't be on this fuckin' green Earth in the first place! Just you think about that!"

Alex shoved Carter off him, releasing some of the tension put upon his neck. He knew that in any other circumstance he wouldn't be able to get the powerful jock off him, but his confidence level was down a notch since a weakling like Alex had managed to save him from a falling sign with the speed of a cheetah. He wasn't in the mood for any fighting with Carter, even with him in his weakened state. 

"I do think about it! All the time!" Alex spat. "Maybe if you engage your brain every once in a while, you'll realise that the world does not revolve around Carter Horton. We have to protect Clear now. She's next. And after her it'll be me again. And then you. Do you notice that pattern, huh? Does it register now?"

Carter put his hands to hips and stared off into the starry sky, scowling in his usual manner. The crowd around the teenagers had started to dissipate once they realised that all they would witness was the flying of fists and a few angry obscenities yelled in English. Several members of the café staff had begun to pick up knocked over chairs and tables. 

"Either you come with us to the hospital to get your back and your self-obsessed brain checked out or you go back to the hotel and drown your sorrows in a few bottles of JD. Which will it be?" 

The blood on the side of Carter's head felt sickly warm. He put his hand to the back of his head subconsciously and found where the gash was. Right in the back of his head from where his head had sturdily cracked on the ground. It wasn't big, but still needed to be checked out. Due to Alex's unconventional defence tactics, Carter knew he'd be nursing a fractured skull in the morning, and no amount of JD would make that _one_ feel better. 

"Alright. Hospital it is. But remember, you owe me."

He shoved his worn out body past the space between Alex and Clear and muttered something not at all coherent under his breath.  

"He's doing the right thing," Clear commented, turning to see Carter make his way over to a bench, putting his cell phone to his ear, presumably calling a taxi to take them to the hospital. 

"If he's got a heart underneath those thick layers of ice, he'll be of some use to us. Won't be doing himself any favours if either one of us is out of the picture. Less chance of him saving himself." 

"You know that won't happen." Alex reassured her. 

Carter could be, as Billy Hitchcock had so oftenly put it, a dick. But he was a strong individual, and although he didn't seem it right now, a team player. Being Captain of the Mt Abraham football team demanded those attributes. 

"We'll beat it Clear, alright. You'll see. Carter will too." 

"I have to admit, I'm with Carter when he says he doubts the chances of us surviving, Alex. I was pretty gullible to think that in those six months since Flight 180, that it would be all over and done with. Right now, we'll take him to the hospital, make sure he's alright then we'll deal with me."

"Alright." Alex replied, putting a caring arm around Clear's shoulders. She was the only calming source of influence between the two boys. He looked over to see Carter eyeing them. He narrowed his eyes at the couple and from that expression, Alex was prepared to take a typical Carter taunt. Instead, the jock just flashed him a grin. Alex had seen that special type of grin before, but somehow, wasn't quite sure what to make of it…

_-- Okie doke, I know it isn't that much, but as I stated in my A/N, I'm lacking a bit of confidence in writing any new FD fic, whether it be big or small, so just be content little children wid what ya got! I personally reckon this is a good start to my FD2 rewrite. Not sure when chapter two will be appearing, but look out for it. Oh and review ...pretty please? *bats eyelashes* xxx --_


	2. Meet Kimberly

**_Disclaimer:_**_ Some of the featured dialogue in this chapter is directly from Final Destination 2, so please, don't sue me Mr FD2 screenwriters, I still have no cash to give ANY of you!_

**_The Cici Academy would like to thank:_**_ I was a right ass. I uploaded the wrong document the second time to make this chapter, and accidentally made a new story. So I had to remove the old original first chapter meaning my reviews have gone once deleted. I am so sorry I deleted your comments people! May I ask you to do them again for chapter one, if you can remember them? Hehehe. I'm such an ass. Anyways... Dharke, cheers for the review…ya know, that mental picture of Carter flying through the air was exactly how I pictured it. Alex didn't wear that many hooded tops, did he? His wardrobe was a bit restricted though, I must admit… Aww, come on, You should **know better** that I won't kill off Clear so you might wanna keep pretending! And Sparky! Whooo, you're always so generous in your reviews. Of course Kimberly will be making an appearance, I need her for my fic. Though I'm must admit, I could get a bit mean on her though…and I've never picked up on your AJ obsession. Curtis tells me about it…I don't suppose you've witnessed my extreme Ali obsession then. Dharke has, and she'll tell ya, it ain't pretty…oh and uh, any spelling mistakes, forgive me, I don't believe in a spell checker…_

_-- Mt Abraham, NYC, six months later, 2001--_

The rain continued to beat down outside the warm confinements of her bedroom. All around the room were scattered possessions. The chatter from the television was the only sign of life in the darkness. They were talking about Alex. Saying how he managed to screw up Death's plan for the fatal Flight 180 crash, almost over one year ago. 

A slight breeze trickled over the sleeping seventeen-year-old Kimberly Corman. She would be engaging on a trip to Daytona with her best friends in the morning. Tomorrow would be a long day so she decided to get in some sleep in a bid to save her energy and concentration for driving. 

_Kimberly_.

Her eyelids stirred to sound of the raspy voice, calling her name. Thinking that it was her father coming in to wake her up, her first instinct was to mutter some response about it being too early. Instead, her eyes focused on the television she had left on and she realised it was still nighttime. A late night chat show was on about paranormal behaviour and the guest looked a little eccentric. Sitting up, Kimberly listened to the topic at the heat of discussion: 

_"Mere coincidence would have one of these kids die. Not all of them, including their teachers."_

_"Yes, but people die all the time, so why should this be any different?"_

It registered in Kimberly's brain that they were discussing the Flight 180 disaster. How Mt Abraham student Alex Browning had saved several doomed students from death. She had read something about it in the paper at the time the incident had occurred. 

"It forced people to question these so-called every day coincidences. What if they were something more? What if you could do something about it?"

The host let out a sceptical laugh. 

"Please, are you listening to yourself? This is crazy." He argued back. "You're saying, that we should be on guard, every morning when we leave the house?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying!"

Kimberly felt the eerie breeze brush against her hot skin. This time it was harder. So hard it managed to slam her previously ajar door to slam shut. Her attention turned back to the guest on the television. The camera had inched closer to his face, probably for dramatic effect, she guessed. He warned that no one could escape death and that today could be your day to die. Kimberly was not a superstitious person, neither was she that gullible to believe such a thing. But she had strange feeling something was wrong. So wrong that turned her stomach. Shaking her head to rid of the strange notion, blaming it on her lack of sleep, she picked up the remote control and switched the television off. 

**LATER**

Shaina Marshall, Kimberly's best friend since they were in pre-school had arrived shortly after 9am. She dragged her luggage over to the trunk of Kimberly's red SUV and handed it to the brunette to place it in with her luggage. Kimberly's father, Steven was double-checking the girls packed the SUV safely. Earlier, Kimberly had given him the telephone number of the hotel they were staying at in Daytona at his request incase she needed him for anything. She already had her cell phone but her father's protectiveness was a genuine concern made her feel that little more secure. The weird feeling she had experienced the night before had subsided and she didn't even once think about it. 

"I'll call you, okay?"

"Kimberly, are you sure you have everything?" Her father asked, preparing to rhyme off a mental list of necessary items needed for a road trip. "Credit card, cell phone, Triple-A card?"

"Dad, it's Daytona, not Somalia." 

"Alright. Fix-a-Flat, road flares, sunblock, mace?"

Shaina came out from the front of the SUV, a wicked grin spread across her lips. 

"Condoms, whips, chains?"

Steven gave her a look while Kimberly just chuckled under her breath. Trust Shaina to bring in a little kink. She hoped that she didn't have anything like that planned for Dano Matthews and Frankie Erickson, the two guys who were travelling with them. Kimberly had a slight crush on Frankie. He was tall, blond, and cute. Mostly what she liked about him was his ability to make her laugh. She liked his carefree attitude. Unlike Dano, a plump teenager, intent on getting high rather than dating anyone. 

"I'm just kidding, Mr Corman. Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on her." Shaina added, winking. 

"That makes me feel a lot better, thanks!" Steven replied, seeing the funny side and playing along. He turned to his daughter and opened out his arms to her. She stepped into them and gave him a hug. Shaina had since then sat herself in the passenger seat of the SUV and looked into the rear-view mirror to see Kimberly hugging her father. 

"Can we go get the guys? I'm getting horny!"

Kimberly chuckled at her friend's persistence and moved from her father's arms. He closed the trunk of the car while Kimberly promised to call him the second they got there. She climbed into the driver's seat of the SUV and gave Shaina a shimmering look. 

"Whips and Chains? That's nice." 

"Whatever. Your dad's cool." The blonde argued back. Kimberly knew how lucky she was to have a father like hers. She couldn't ask for anything more since her mother had died so tragically. She shifted the car into gear and pulled out of the driveway. 

"Buckle up!" Steven shouted behind them. He smiled and then proceeded to go back into the house and prepare for the weekend alone. His smile dropped when he saw an ominous looking puddle of transmission fluid seeping into the concrete. He'd better call Kimberly and suggest she stop at a garage and get it checked out. 

_-- New York, NYC,  2001--_

"Are you out of your fuckin' mind?" Carter demanded, who sat in the lounge of Alex's NY apartment, slumped in his chair. He had probably just heard the most bizarre pitch of all time. 

"You seriously want to put your own girlfriend into an asylum when she ain't even fuckin' crazy?"

"It's a protection measure," Alex replied. 

"It's an experiment, alright?" Clear added.

"Next you'll have me in there! Well, I'll tell you I ain't sharing a room with blondie over there," he muttered, jerking his thumb in Clear's direction. Carter had heard a few fucked up things in his life, but nothing like this. "You'll have to drag me kicking and screaming."

"It's not for you, you moron. It's for Clear. An experiment. If this works then this could be the solution to all our problems." Alex said, standing in front of Carter and kicked his feet.

"Hey! Watch it! Those cost 90 bucks!" Carter scowled, quickly shifting his feet from Alex's reach. He quickly turned his attention back to the situation at hand.

"The 'solution'? The only upshot of this hare-brained scheme is that you'll end up in there with her, and I, I shall be positively goddamn delirious that you're gone!"

"What are you whinging about?" Clear demanded. "It's not like I totally agree with this either, but it's worth a shot, isn't it?"

"No, it's not. It's hiding. You've gotta be man about it and stand up to it. Cause it some fuckin' friction! Do you want to hide all your life? Do you want to live your life with people saying '_Aw; look there goes Clear Rivers, the biggest wuss of all time with the biggest sissy of a boyfriend!'_ Naw, it'll dent your reputation, and mine too I might add! I'll be labelled the freak-magnet, unable to repel freaks!"

"Oh will you shut the fuck up?" Alex sighed. "You keep withering on as if this is about you. You're not the subject of the experiment, so what have you go to worry about? If it works, and avoids Clear, it'll come back after you. You'd be next in line, then I reckon you should start worrying."

Carter waved his hand at Alex, dismissing him and getting to his feet. "Alright. Have it your way. But if you as so much insinuate that I try out the R.P McMurphy approach to insanity, you'll live to regret that you ever knew Carter Horton. I'm not a fuckin' coward. Don't ask me to be one." 

The jock departed to his room, muttering all the way. Alex sat down at the edge of the now vacant lounger, burying his head into his hands. Either he was frustrated with the whole concept of running away from the inevitable or he was frustrated with Carter's refusal to go along with any theory. 

"He has a point you know." Clear said, interrupted Alex's musings. "If this does work, and does in fact skip me, it'll only come back for you two."

"Then we can repeat the process, a simple signing up of…"

"Alex, please, this is, excuse the lack of a better word, insane. You can't just keep piling us into a safe haven. Carter's right. We've got to tackle this head on and deal with whatever it throws at us. Just like before. If you're worried about me, don't be, I can take care of myself. We need to work as a unit, Alex, a team."

Alex let out a frustrated sigh, taking his head from his hands and looking at Clear who was now kneeling in front of him. She took his hands into hers.

"I'll do this for you, alright. Just to see how it goes. But after, and if it works, you must promise to try a few of Carter's approaches to our problems, okay?"

Alex nodded. He was being just a little too overprotective, but that was all he wanted to do, protect everyone. 

"I don't want to lose you, Clear."

"You won't. I promise."

She squeezed his hands and gave him a reassuring, lingering kiss and got to her feet. 

"I'll go see if Carter wants to give me a hand with getting some stuff together. You be alright on your own?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Alex replied, a little drawn out. Clear studied him, and decided it was best not to ask what he was thinking. She exited the room to go and find Carter. Alex had a gut feeling that something horrific was going to transpire. Nothing connected to them, but something completely off the scale. He just quite couldn't put a finger on what it was…

-- _Alright, just to inform you, I had a previous version of this chapter and due to my stupidity in not saving my work periodically, I lost it. Now, not wanting to march to the beat of my own drum, but lemme assure you, this newer draft is much fuckin' superior than the one I had lost earlier. But if the story is getting good, or crap even, just feel free to review and tell me so. Dharke, I know you want ten quid for every review you do on FF.net, a nice career move I might mention (wish I thought of it), however Curtis and I decided that we might have to pay you in squid, lol, cos we are SKINT! Uh, chapter three will be appearing soon, hopefully! I go back to college tomorrow and depending on how things go, the next part might appear by next Sunday, or perhaps, sooner…just keep tuned, folks… --_


	3. Visions and the Superbowl

**_Disclaimer:_**_ Some of the featured dialogue in this chapter is directly from Final Destination 2, so please, don't sue me Mr FD2 screenwriters, I still have no cash to give ANY of you!_

**_The Cici Academy would like to thank: _**_Ouch Curtis, I've published this chapter just in record time huh? Almost had hot stir-fry down my back, yeeouch. Me write good things about Chimberly? Oh well, it was a nice chapter, but you know me, I won't keep up with nice Chimmie remarks forever. And Dharke, the ever-present fellow Carter lover in my life. Aw, you liked philosophical Carter, thanx v. much!! I'm glad you weren't too sick with the ending, sorry, I needed an A/C fix in there, HAD to be mushy. But don't worry, that's me on a good day. Wait until I really feel up to having a corn fest (this chapter is nearing it!) Oh and you like my sense of humour? I call Clear 'blondie' anywayz, nothing new there…oh and by the way; chapter three has had a lovely proofread so the glass is clean! YAY!_

"Watch it!"

The four teenagers had only been on the road leading up to Route 23 for several minutes, and already Kimberly had almost managed to give her friends a severe case of whiplash. Stopping just a few minor inches from the car in front made Shaina jerk forward, wincing slightly. 

"Woah, easy Kimmie. First year of driving?" came Dano's voice, full of laughter. He turned to Frankie, flashing him a very enthusiastic grin, which made Frankie shake his head in mock sympathy. Secretly on the inside, Kimberly had somehow managed to let her mind drift back to the previous night and her driving almost suffered from her inner lack of confidence. She sighed, waiting patiently for the traffic lights to switch to green. 

Suddenly, a bang at the driver's window caught Kimberly's attention. She turned to see an old female tramp standing at her door with her filthy hand perched on the windscreen. In the other hand, was a bag full of empty soda cans, which she was rattling gently. Kimberly frowned at the tramp, who quickly tore her eyes from Kimberly's when the bottom of her bag burst and the cans fell out. Dano and Frankie erupted into laughter, with Dano going as far as pointing childishly at the woman. 

"Yo Dano, shouldn't we, uh, help your mom?"

Kimberly looked in her rear-view mirror at Frankie, lightening slightly up at his joke about the tramp and Dano. He was less than thrilled.

"Oh, good one man, you're hilarious." Dano retorted. Wrapping his bag full of drugs, he tucked it safely away from Frankie, warning him that for his remark he would not be getting a single ounce of his weed. The traffic light changed from red to green and the red SUV started off once again onto the main highway.

"So what are we gonna do in Daytona?" Frankie asked.

"Oh baby, we're gonna see lots of honeys there!" replied Dano. "We're gonna get drunk, we're gonna smoke this big 'el gagerero', we're gonna have this awesome fuckin' party..."

Dano's enthusiastic, yet extremely annoying voice had slowly faded away into the back of Kimberly's mind. Becoming almost a distant memory…a yellow school bus from Mt Abraham, carrying the football team, drove by in the other lane. The students were giving it their all with loud chants of 'Pileup'. Kimberly found it weird so she decided to switch on the radio to put her mind at ease. 

"A candle-lit vigil will be held tonight at the Mt Abraham School auditorium to mark the one year anniversary of the Flight 180 crash…"

_Morbid much?_ Kimberly mused, feeling a slight case of deja vu pertaining to the previous night; she flicked to the next station. AC/DC's '_Highway To Hell'_ came blaring out of the car speakers. Not wanting to hear the irritating shouting of the song's chorus, she flicked to another station and left it on, not particularly caring what was playing. Surprisingly, it was a melodic piece of music aimed at trying to calm one's nerves. 

A black automobile with red and orange painted flames screaming across the bonnet pulled up into the right lane next to Kimberly's SUV. Driving it was blond teenager, who was quick to acknowledge Kimberly. A confident, smooth and perhaps winning grin spread across his features just as Frankie and Dano in the back of the SUV burst out into laughter at the blond's approach to fast flirting. Just then, Kimberly's cell phone went off. Taking her eyes off the road for a second, she looked down to see the number on the screen:

_Dad_.

"Hello?"

"Kimberly, it's dad." Replied her father's voice over the speakerphone set that he had bought and installed especially for Kimberly's car.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Your car is leaking transmission fluid. I want you to get it checked right away."

"Okay, yeah, I'll do that."

Dano had just sparked up his latest roll up of weed when a gruff looking biker pulled up aside Frankie's window. On the bike with him was a fit looking blonde, who suddenly raised her top and exposed her breasts to Dano's stunned eyes. Dano was so stunned that he started to choke on his weed, causing Frankie to look at him in concern. 

"Is that someone coughing?" Dano's coughs caught the attention of Steven Corman, who now expressed even more concern over the speakerphone. Frankie was trying to find out what was wrong with Dano as Kimberly reassured her father that she would take care of it and promised to call him later. Frankie insisted that Dano hand him the weed. He'd obviously had done too much inhaling. Frankie caught on to Dano's gaze, and turned to see the girl fully clothed and biker flipping them the bird. He had completely missed Dano's little peep show. The biker grinned and drove off. 

"What'd you do?" Frankie demanded, turning back to Dano, who now seemed to be cough free. 

"Dude, look at those titties!!"

Kimberly warned Dano to be quiet, her concentration slightly waning. 

"Aw, you missed that?" he teased Frankie, who was now becoming a little uncomfortable. "That's too bad. Too bad."

Dano's eccentric, asshole potential behaviour was short lived as he looked over his shoulder to see a Cop Patrol Car edging closer. Panicking, he started giving Kimberly orders.

"Fuck, man! There's a cop right behind us! Pull in the right lane, now!" 

Kimberly indicated and with a sharp, swift manoeuvre, the SUV jerked unsteadily into the right lane almost colliding side on with a truck full of logs. The truck driver slammed his horn repeatedly at Kimberly's obvious lack of vision. Slowing down, Kimberly ducks in behind the log truck. 

"Put it out, ok, Dano? Put that thing out!"

Frankie rolled down his window, preparing to put Dano's roll-up out the window, but Dano greedily snatched it back from him, wanting one last drag. Shaina turned her head to see Dano puffing away on the weed and she too, demanded he get rid of it. Dano eventually complies and flicks out his window. It lands on the window wipers of PR agent Kathryn 'Kat' Jennings' jeep. The prim businesswoman was worming her way into a deal on her cell phone when:

"What the hell?!" Kat exclaimed as she noticed the weed smoking on her windscreen. 

"No, not you!" She apologised irritatingly to the voice on the other end of her cell. She glanced out her window at Kimberly's red SUV, knowing all too well it came from her car. She sees Dano's colourless face pleading with her not to signal that there was any sign of trouble to the cop behind them. Kat smirked, and pointed at Dano warningly. He smiled an apologetic smile. 

Kimberly's psyche was slowly filling with steady, sickening fear. All the signs that she seemed to be picking up on, were indicating that some disaster was about to befall her. 

_The leaking transmission fluid, the pileup chants, the music on the radio…_

Her thoughts were interrupted when she noticed a road sign informing the highway drivers of the next rest stop: 25 miles away. 

"I think we better pull over and check the car…"

"Kimberly," Shaina sighed. "The car is going to be fine. Your dad's gonna be fine. _You_ are gonna be fine."

Kimberly wanted to believe her friend, but she just couldn't shake that sick feeling in her stomach. Something terrible was about to transpire. She just couldn't put her finger on it…

****

INTERCUT WITH… 

_NEW YORK CITY_

"Aww, man! What the fuck are you_ doing_ Garrett! You'll never make the touchdown!"

Carter was sitting on the edge of his bed, shouting at the small television in the corner of his room. The New York Giants were crumbling 29-7 in the Superbowl against the Baltimore Ravens. His ass was far from numb, because every time one of the Giants quarterbacks failed to make a touchdown, he would be leaping off his seat and venting his anger out of the glass table sitting in front of him. There were 10 minutes left of the final quarter, and even Carter himself, had to admit his team were staring defeat in the face. This was enough to make him cranky for the rest of the week, never mind the day. He hoped that Alex and Clear stayed in their room because if he saw them he'd probably get cranky on them…and that idea actually appealed to him so much right now.

Alex had already decided that Clear would go off to Stonybrook and carry out the "experiment". Carter was far from happy about the whole idea, in general. Sure, he would look forward to a good few weeks of not barfing at the sight of those two making out at every opportunity, but he knew, as well as Alex, that this would do fuck all to help them avoid Death. Secretly, he did admire the lengths that Alex was going to in order to protect Clear. He wished he could have done that for Terry. 

But right now, he wished his team would pull their fingers out of their asses and at least work together to avoid a totally embarrassing scoreline. 

"Lewis! You retard! Get the fuck back you wanker!!" 

Oh this was not going to be a good day for the New York Giants. 

Or Carter Horton: Pissed off sports fan.

****

**INTERCUT WITH…**

_HIGHWAY_

In front of Kimberly Corman's red SUV was a white Dodge van and at the wheel was pregnant, former housewife, Isabella Hudson. She was on her way to make a delivery for her soon-to-be ex husband's freelance goods transportation company. It defeated her as to why she was still working for the cheating asshole and his over hyped company. Maybe she would hand in her resignation after todays drop off…show the prick that she had a trick or two herself.

Whizzing down behind her was high school teacher Eugene Dix, on his Black Panther motorcycle. The puddles that had formed on the highway, splashed up as his bike strode forward. Not once did the thought of slowing down cross his mind.

A truck titled "HICE PALE ALE" pulled up in the lane on the left side of Kimberly's car. Glancing up slightly, she saw that the driver was in fact drinking a bottle. Kimberly's eyebrows knitted in morbid fascination. Well there was drug-dealing going on _her_ car, what difference would it make if drink was thrown in? 

"Look at that guy!" Shaina muttered in disgust, noticing the trucker's actions. Kimberly noticed the advertising information on the side of the truck as it leeched forward: DRINK RESPONSIBLY.

Shaking her head in disbelief, she muttered: "Oh yeah, that's _real_ responsible."

Ironically, feeling somewhat irresponsible herself, she noticed she wasn't wearing her seatbelt. She took her eyes off the road for a few seconds and clicked the belt in place. Upon looking up, she noticed a little boy in the car in front, sitting playing with two toy cars. The child locked eyes with Kimberly, and then proceeded to clash the two cars together. In front of that car was a raven-haired teenager, Rory Peters, driving his blue cabriolet, emitting from the exhaust pipe was a serious bout of gas. Frankie rolled down his windows and stuck his head out:

"Hey! You ever hear of the O Zone layer, asshole?!"

Kimberly, noticing Frankie's cry, decided to drive up and overtake some other cars to avoid the gas emitting from Rory's car. She passed a mother and son, Nora and Tim Carpenter, driving in an old '73 Mustang. The boy was drumming his empty bottles of water on the glove compartment, his mother not even telling him off for such an irritating act. 

Behind Kimberly, in the cop patrol car was Officer Thomas Burke. He was heading back to the station to be debriefed on his next assignment, which at the present moment was undisclosed to him. He had decided to turn his radio off and concentrate fully on the road. The coffee cup, situated in his cup holder, rattled as the car skidded across some bumps in the road. He flicked the car into gear and pulled in front of Kimberly's SUV, passing Rory Peters. Rory jumped at the sight of the patrol car, seeing as he had just sniffed up a handful of coke. He relaxed his shoulders. 

"What, I'm wearing my seatbelt." He said aloud. "You gonna bust me, bitch?"

****

**INTERCUT WITH…**

_NEW YORK CITY_

"So how long am I planning to stay in this _Cookoo's Nest_ for then? A week? A fortnight?"

"I'm not sure. It depends."

"Depends on what, Alex? Until I eventually crack up not seeing you or until we know we're all safe from Death?" Clear demanded. She shook her head as she dropped a few more clothes into a bag. Carter was right, in both the short term and long term. 

"Uh, I'm not sure they'll let you in with one of them." Alex pointed out, pointing to the bag. "You're not going on vacation, Clear, you've got to lay low. And to do that, nothing that will expose you to the design can be in your possession."

Clear was getting a little worried about Alex and his demeanour in dealing with this whole thing. She sometimes wondered if he was shocked just that little too much last summer in her garage. 

Nice one, don't be so spiteful. He's only trying to look out for you. 

"I know you're only trying to help, Alex, but this whole overprotective boyfriend thing, it isn't you. That's something Carter would do, god forbid I ever date him."

Alex let out a laugh, the first since Paris. Ever since Carter almost met his demise some few weeks ago, he knew that he was being irrational in trying to keep them all safe. But he had explained so many times to Clear that he was just trying to protect her, find new ideas to defeat Death once and for all. Clear sat next to him on the bed, shuffling up closer to him. 

"Speaking of," Alex started, "is Carter still in his room, yelling at the television set?"

"Hmm. I haven't heard any obscenities for over five minutes now. God, I'll miss this the most."

"Carter yelling and swearing?" Alex asked, perplexed. 

"No, silly." She replied, taking her hand to his head, and playing with his hair. "This. Us."

"You know," Alex said, turning towards her, on the verge of changing his mind. "You don't need to do this. You don't have to go. You can just stay here and we'll do what you suggested earlier – listen to Carter's approaches. I'm sure not all of them will be alcohol induced." 

"No, I want to do this. You've made me determined and if it'll make you happy and feel that little more secure that I'm safe, then I'll do it for you. And both Carter and I will prove to you that you are acting just beyond crazy. Hell, you're more crazy than I'm supposed to be." 

  
The strong front that Clear was putting up was reaching breaking point, and Alex knew that, he could see the tears in her eyes. He could see beyond this tough front because he knew that deep down inside she was dreading the whole prospect of being away from her friends. He pulled her towards him and put his arms around her and whispered words of confidence. 

"You will be safe there. And I promise, I will come and see you every day. I won't abandon you."

**INTERCUT WITH…**

HIGHWAY

Officer Burke found himself to be getting extremely impatient for some unknown reason. Just his luck, when he has to be somewhere for a specific time, he always seemed to get stuck behind slow moving vehicles. In front of him was a truck carrying logs, what must have weighed several pounds. Underneath the car, Burke could feel some sort of thundering, as if an Earthquake was transpiring. He glanced to his coffee cup noticing that it was shaking like a leaf, he wasn't imagining it. Unbeknownst to him, the metal chain holding the logs together on the truck had snapped in two. Suddenly, he jumped up as the coffee managed to spill all over his lap. 

"Son of a bitch!" he muttered, as the scalding heat spread across his groin quickly. He looked around for a napkin to dry himself off with. 

Great, now all the guys back at base will think I've pissed myself…

His eyebrows knitted in confusion as the thumping on the ground had got harder over the passing minutes. He looked up to suddenly see several logs on the highway – and one heading straight in his direction. He had no time to shift the car into gear and speed away from the oncoming object. His eyes widened as the log canon-balled straight into the front windshield, smashing into him, killing him instantly. Behind, Eugene noticed the tumbling logs, and the thick stream of blood that gushed out of the cop patrol car. Trying to pull the brakes on the Panther, the breaks locked, and due to the extreme condensation on the road, the bike skidded out of control and Eugene was whipped off, falling to the ground and he himself skidded along the road. Rory tried to avoid the logs but his car careers into the air, completing a whole three hundred and sixty degree flip. Eugene's back slammed hard into a log and he turned to see his bike skidding along after him. The bike slammed into his stomach, the blade cutting into his stomach, killing him. 

Rory's car lands on all four wheels. The blood trickled down his face, and he put his hands to his face to examine for any other injuries. Trying to get his breath back, he looked out his window and is faced with a truck, appearing from nowhere. He screamed out as the truck crashed into his car, exploding into flames. Kat's jeep crashed into several logs and her car too, careers into the air. Nora Carpenter can't control her car, which is vastly spinning out of control. Tim's bottles of water end up on her side of the car. Tim demands that his mother stop the car, but one of the bottles obstructs the break pedal and they crash too. 

Amazingly, on the other side, Isabella's white van manages to complete elude the horrifying collisions, happening left, right and centre. Kimberly tried to get a firm grip on her SUV, but it skidded out of control and flips into the air. Everyone in the car is tossed side to side. Kimberly would have been out the window if she hadn't of put her seatbelt on earlier. Finally, Evan Lewis crashed as well. Kimberly suffered a huge crack in the back of her head, and she found it difficult to focus on anything. She could barely see Evan clawing at his seat belt, screaming for help. 

"Shaina…?" Kimberly managed to get out, weakly. The fact that her friend wasn't answering made the situation even worse. A truck came out of the foggy mist of smoke behind Evan's car and the truck crashes into the flaming car and Evan. Kimberly is now wide eyed as she sees that the truck is heading for her SUV. She lets out an ear-piercing scream, as she knows she only has a few seconds to live…

Suddenly, Kimberly snaps out of her vision, the sweat trickling down her face. 

She realises that she is still situated at the red light at the entrance to the highway. She looked into her rear view mirror to see that Dano and Frankie are unharmed. She turns to Shaina who is also unharmed. Kimberly's racing heart pounds in her ears and her breathing comes out in low, shallow, breaths…what the hell was that?!

**INTERCUT WITH…**

NEW YORK CITY

Alex quickly jumped out of Clear's embrace, his hands going straight to his head. He was experiencing one hell of a headache. He couldn't quite figure out why – but he just had a vision. What scared him even more was that it wasn't him in the vision. Neither was it Clear or Carter. But a group of people he didn't recognise, but knew were destined to meet. 

"Alex, what's wrong?" Clear asked alarmed, turning to his aid, her arms going around his waist. He was doubled over, clutching at his head. Sitting silently still, Clear was becoming more scared with Alex's silent state. 

"Come on, talk to me, what's wrong?"

Just then, their bedroom door flew open and Carter stormed in, slamming the door behind him.

"Stupid fucking losers! Call that a football team?! GAH! I could sure go down there and kick their…"

The jock stopped short, several inches into the room, when he saw the way Clear was bent over Alex. His eyebrows rose immediately and he let out a snigger, suddenly grinning from ear to ear. 

"If I'm interrupting something sexual, I am totally sorry, man!" 

Clear moved away from Alex, and Carter realised he had completely misread the situation. Alex seemed to be in a state of shock, and Clear was now pacing around like some wild insomniac.

"Did I miss something?"

"He's fine one minute," Clear explained, "then the next, he's like this. He won't tell me what's wrong."

"I had a vision." Alex said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Carter's eyes widened. He smacked his hand into his forehead groaning inwardly. 

"Oh Jesus, fuck, Browning!"

"What did you see?" Clear asked, ignoring Carter's declaration of distress. She returned to the bed, at Alex's side. He looked up to see Clear's concerned eyes staring into his. He glanced at Carter, who just scowled at him, waiting for information. 

"A pileup. I-I don't know if it's happened yet. It all happened so fast. I don't know what that was all about. I mean none of us were involved. It could have been something totally random or…" he trailed.

"Or what?" asked Clear.

"Or…something's different."

Alex looked at Carter, to see if he was satisfied with that answer and the jock just shook his head at the young visionary. He folded his arms and leaned against the wall. 

"Great, it's official," he muttered. "My day is about to get fucking worse." 

-- Sorry that chapter either put you to sleep (Chimberly scenes, which almost had ME falling asleep writing the fucker) or made you want to yak at the A/C scenes and Clear experimenting with the touchy feely girlfriend thing, regarding Alex's hair (what, it looked sweet in my mind!). Whatever it did for you, feedback is obviously greatly appreciated. Chapter four --- uh, when I can be bothered. --


	4. Burke's Authority

**_Disclaimer:_**_ Some of the featured dialogue in this chapter is directly from Final Destination 2, so please, don't sue me Mr FD2 screenwriters, I still have no cash to give ANY of you!_

**_The Cici Academy would like to thank: _**_Dharke, once again, cheers for your review. You'll be glad to learn, this chapter will exclude your usual vomit bucket antics seeing as there's only a mention of Clear this time…but oh ho, don't be too relieved yet…the next chapter will hopefully get you murdering me on over at the FDA board *plug-plug-plug*… a chapter with just Carter? Hmm, maybe. This is my first non-Clear chapter so there's still hope for your dream yet. Oh and advanced warning, there is very little Carter in this chapter cuz I had to get the most boring Chimmie stuff out the way and to fit Carter in with the next few chapters, I had to sacrifice his amazing presence in this one…Curtis, you too, Sweetie, cheers for your review…but please, no more clinging on to me! I thought I had told you previously to go squash the air out of Tod n Billy!_

------

"Woah, easy Kimmie, first year of driving?"

Dano's voice startled Kimberly into reality. To say it spooked her was an understatement; this dream, this _vision _was coming true. Kimberly heard a sudden bang and realised it came from her window. She turned to stare into the eyes of the very woman she had envisioned: the old tramp, rattling her bag of empty cans. Her eyes bore into Kimberly's, more so than they had done in the vision. Kimberly's gaze was averted, as from the corner of her eye she could see the bag of cans begin to tare. The cans tumbled out onto the pavement. Frankie and Dano, as expected, erupted into laughter. 

"Yo Dano, shouldn't we help your mom?"

"Oh good one man, you're hilarious…"

Ignoring the obvious signs that this vision was coming true, Kimberly spotted the Mt Abraham school bus passing them onto the on-ramp. And just like in the vision, the students were chanting 'pileup!'

"Oh my god…" 

"What?" asked Shaina. 

"There's gonna be a huge accident! We're all gonna die, I just saw it!"

Dano sniggered. "Alright, it's my turn to drive." 

"No, I'm serious!" Kimberly persisted, her breathing becoming erratic and husky. Noticing her best friend's unsteady approach to breathing, Shaina looked to Kimberly in concern as she started to survey her surroundings with busy eyes. 

"Kim, what's wrong?"

Wanting to see if the moment could get any worse, Kimberly flicked on the radio. Upon switching it on, the same announcement advertising the vigil at Mr Abraham high came on. Eyes widening in horror, Kimberly started pressing buttons to find the station with the AC/DC rock anthem _Highway to Hell_ on it…

"What are you doing?"

"Highway to hell, highway to hell…" repeated Kimberly over and over, her fingers twitching in nervous anticipation. Frankie leaned forward, becoming increasingly concerned with Kimberly's incoherent ramblings. "Highway to Hell'?" 

Taking her finger off the 'seek' button, _Highway To Hell_ reverberated around the SUV. Shaina glanced at Kimberly, totally wigged out by her friend's gift of second sight. 

"Okay Kimberly, you're scaring me."

Dano, who wasn't particularly paying attention to the girls (maybe it was the weed), insisted Kimberly move as the traffic lights changed to green. With the heart stopping vision still afresh in her mind, Kimberly shifted the SUV into gear and executed half a U-turn, right in the middle of the on-ramp, successfully blocking everyone from her vision behind her acute safety measure. Dano was now pissed off with Kimberly's wild behaviour.

"Are you out of your friggen mind?" He demanded, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Kimberly, what the fuck?" Frankie chipped in. 

Several hundred yards behind Kimberly's red SUV, Officer Thomas Burke sat in his patrol car, carefully monitoring the actions of the SUV's driver. Wanting to find out what the jerk in the SUV was playing at, Burke slowly rolled his car up the inner lane so he could get a closer look at what was going on. 

"Kimberly, you've just gotta breathe." Shaina said, not sure what was the right thing to say. Kimberly's behaviour was an unpredictable force of nature, and Shaina was not sure about the best way to handle it. _Keep her calm, that's all you've gotta do…_

"Oh shit!" Dano exclaimed, seeing Burke's patrol car pull up behind them. His mind set into instant panic mode. "Five-O's coming, let's fucking roll!"

Shaina saw the patrol car in her side mirror and sighed. She knew that if Dano was searched, the weed would surely be found. Her friend would be labelled hysterically certifiable and Dano would be ousted as a drug smuggler.

"Kimberly do you know how much fucking weed I have on me, uh?"

"Ok Dano, just shut up." Said Shaina, rolling her eyes impatiently. "Just stay cool."

Burke picked up his state trooper hat, images of his colleagues laughing at the accessory on his head quickly flashed before his mind's eye, he got out the car and proceeded to approach Kimberly. To the right, Rory jumped out of his seat at seeing Burke exit his vehicle. Thinking the Officer was gunning for him, he hid his drugs and quickly sat straight to make it appear as if there wasn't a problem. 

Approaching the SUV, Dano saw Burke as he walked past his window. An uneasy uneven smile found its way on Dano's plump features. Burke glanced at him, thinking of his behaviour as suspicious. Turning away from Dano, he faced Kimberly straight on. His eyebrows raised, seeing that this jerk was in fact a beautiful teenage girl. 

"What's going on here?"

Unable to keep it to herself, Kimberly spilled:

"There's going to be a huge pile up! I saw it! There were bodies everywhere. There were logs – I saw it! It just happened."

Burke glanced at Dano for some sort of response. All the Officer got was that same uneasy smile. He had had enough, so he turned back to Kimberly and kindly requested that she get out of the car. From behind, a horn was blared several times. The tooting belonged to Evan Lewis. Kat made her impatience known as well. Kimberly stood uncomfortably in front of Burke. 

Inside her van, Isabella tried to utter smooth baby talk to her unborn child. Not wanting to be behind on her asshole of an husband's delivery, she tried to wait patiently for the blocked road to become accessible. But patience was not one of Isabella's virtues. "Oh fuck this!" She unfastened her seatbelt and opened the door. "I'm going to get this, and we're going to go…"

Several of the other drivers on the on-ramp were becoming more and more impatient. Evan Lewis now stood outside his car, while Eugene turned off the Panther's ignition, then removed his helmet. He knew they were not going anywhere anytime soon. 

Isabella walked up to Burke, who was trying to find out why Kimberly was so frightened, and waved at him. "Is there anyway we could drive around? I have a delivery and…"

"You need to get back in your vehicles!" Instructed the officer of the law. Evan persisted with making his impatience known and demanded the SUV be moved. 

Crazy psycho bitch… 

On the highway, the log truck that killed Burke in Kimberly's vision, passed by and Kimberly did not miss it. She grabbed Burke by the arm, turning him around.

"That's it! That's the truck that's going to kill everybody. You _need_ to stop that truck!"

"I told you again," Burke warned, "you have to calm down."

"Why won't you listen to me!?" Kimberly demanded, becoming increasingly frustrated. 

Suddenly everyone's attention was turned to further up the highway, as huge flames ripped into the air. The log truck had indeed crashed. Several vehicles crashed into each other trying to avoid tumbling logs and hot flames. 

"FUCK!" shouted Tim from inside the Mustang. Nora was more shocked by the accident than what she was by Tim's dirty use of profanity. She reminded herself to tell him off when they got home. 

Burke left Kimberly's side, turned and ran back to his car. He inserted his hand through the open window and into the car, pulling out the portable radio. 

"This is Unit 13 requesting medical assistance and backup for a major traffic accident."

"Kimberly, what's going on?" Shaina asked from inside the car. The blonde's voice quickly became a distant echo in Kimberly's mind as she noticed a road sign that said 'NEXT 180 FEET'. It registered to Kimberly that this was an omen to the Flight 180 disaster. 

Time seemed to slow right down to the slowest second, as the brunette turned to see a blue truck, headed straight in her direction. Heroically, Burke jumped to Kimberly's side and tackled her, holding on to her as they fell to the ground. From moving out the way, the blue truck ploughed into the SUV, instantly killing Shaina, Frankie and Dano. Kimberly was quick to get her footing back and the tears began to stream down her face as she realised that her friends were indeed dead. Burke could offer no sympathy – nothing that could make this tragic turn of events less painful. Feeling somewhat responsible, he enveloped her in his arms, trying to shield her from the burning vehicles strewn across Route 23 – now known as a battlefield.

**_Mt Abraham Police Station_**__

Before leaving to find his superior, Burke made sure all the on-ramp survivors were comfortable. He had no idea how long the questioning would take. It seemed they had been cooped up in the one room for all eternity, awaiting any news that might become available. Detective Suby was still questioning Evan Lewis in the other interview room. Standing at the door of the room where the survivors were spread around the table, Burke could only focus his attention on Kimberly. From what he could see, Burke saw a strong girl whose confidence and self-belief was shattered by today's events. She felt so fragile in his arms almost a few hours ago, sobbing. Thinking back, Burke remembered his late mother. She had taught him not to treat any woman like glass; no strong woman would break. Kimberly sat in a daze, as if no one else was in the room with her. While the others were trying to keep themselves occupied, she sat there, chewing her bottom lip. Burke placed one foot inside the door and announced:

"I'll uh, go see Detective Suby. See what's happening regarding the questioning."

He turned to see Suby entering the office several yards behind him. Burke left the room and quietly made his way through the corridor filled with drunks and petty thieves. As he was too busy regarding all the strange looks these felons were giving him, he barged right into Suby. 

"Burke, watch where you're going, eh?"

"Sorry." Apologised Burke. Suby started once again, setting off at a brisk pace, the younger officer struggling to keep up. Nonetheless, he put across the plight of the on-ramp survivors. 

  
"Listen sir, this girl is really freaked out. In fact, all of them are. Scared as you can imagine."

Suby's larger frame scoffed. "Scared? These people are the luckiest sons of bitches on the planet. Get this guy Evan Lewis – yesterday, the kid wins the lotto; today he avoids the worst pile up in years. I should be so damn unlucky."

Burke cringed at the apparent Kylie Minogue reference. But even if Burke had the gift of second sight, he would have no idea that he was about to cringe even more.

"Go babysit the rest of 'em will ya?" the older man said, obviously frustrated. "I'll be done with Lewis in a minute." 

Walking into the room where Evan Lewis was situated, Burke wished he would get a little more respect from his fellow officers and peers. He seemed to either be the butt of everyone's jokes or the guy who was less than capable of solving a murder case all on his own. Once he had been passing the canteen and had overheard the other state troopers making fun of him. They were laughing at how dorky he looked in the trooper hat and that if he had done anymore brown nosing to Suby, he would be halfway up his ass. They had nicknamed him 'Officer Irritating'. It disgusted Burke and at the same time, made him more determined to become the most upstanding officer of the law Mt Abraham had ever had the pleasure to grace. Gaining his composure, Burke walked into a barrage of questions from Kat Jennings and the other survivors.

"We're trying to do the best we can," he lied slightly. In fact, they were getting nowhere. "We're going to get you out of here as soon as it's possible."

Choosing not to reveal any more information, Burke nestled himself in a chair beside a fraught Kimberly. 

"I just think it's a bunch of bullshit," remarked Eugene Dix from across the room. Burke glanced at him, silently wishing for him to shut up. Obviously it wasn't a lot of bullshit to this girl…

"Listen," Burke began, catching Kimberly's attention. "I know you've gone over all of this with Detective Suby, but would you mind telling me what happened?"

"It was like I was there," explained Kimberly. "I knew something bad was going to happen even before it did."

To the left of Kimberly, Tim Carpenter exchanged nervous glances with his mother. His hands felt empty without his trusty empty water bottles. 

"It just felt wrong. Just like…"

"Just like what?" Burke questioned softly, now suddenly interested. 

"Look, I know this sounds crazy but, you guys all heard about Flight 180, right? The kid who got off the plane? Well, it happened – a year ago today. My premonition was just like his."

"What are you talking about?" inquired Nora. 

Eugene sat thinking about what the Corman girl was saying. Sure, he had discussed the occult and supernatural activity in a few classes at Mt Abraham high school but he never imagined the day he would be sitting with half a dozen strangers discussing the reality of it all. He still maintained it was all a crock of shit but there was no harm in taking the piss out of it. Eugene stood.

"Come on," he muttered in response to Nora. "Sure you musta heard about the kid who had a dream about a plane blowing up, so he got all his buddies off the plane and then the thing blew up just like in his dream?"

Nora nodded, slightly apprehensive. "Yeah."

"But did you hear what happened after?" 

This time Nora shook her head. She never read about such filth in the newspaper. 

"So a month goes by, right. Everything seems cool. But then all the survivors started to die one by one." Eugene glanced at Rory. "Cause when your number's up, your number's up, right?"

Rory just smirked from his position at the table and made a gesture. Tim sat perplexed at what had just transpired. He guessed the druggie/hippie, whatever the fuck he was, was making some "whack" gesture like all those angry black rappers favoured so much. Too much Snoop and Tupac for this boy. 

"You know," Eugene continued, "some people even said that Death itself was stalking them, hunting each one down…." Tim's ears pricked up as he realised that Eugene was now standing behind him and his mother. "Until they were all…dead!" 

A sudden evil laugh from Eugene's deep voice made Tim and Nora almost jump out of their seats. 

"There were two other survivors along with the Browning kid: Clear Rivers and Carter Horton." Remarked Burke thoughtfully. Already, he was feeling in control of the situation. 

"Well that's promising," said Rory. 

From inside Evan Lewis's interview room, Detective Suby turned on the speakers from the conjoining room where the other survivors sat. 

"Okay you want me to believe this is true? That this is happening all over again?" 

Evan studied Suby as he watched the others chat to Officer Burke. He was getting rather impatient. He had some female admirers waiting for him back at home on his answering machine. He was itching to go out and get some more body paint for his car. 

"I don't even know why we're here. What do you want from me?"

Suby was not paying attention. Or rather, he didn't want to. He held his hand up at the blond teenager, signalling for him to be quiet. He listened carefully to the brunette explain the theoretical side of this whole "death-is-after-us" malarkey. After hearing all he wanted to here, he turned to Lewis and told him he was free to go.

"That means Death could be coming for us?" Tim piped up, taking of Eugene's example of dry humour. 

"Yeah, what if we're all getting that _Diff'ent Strokes_ curse or something?" added Rory, feeling somewhat amused himself. 

One person, who was not finding this in the least bit funny, was Tim's overprotective mother, Nora. 

"You know. I think you're _all_ certifiable. I can't believe I've been listening to this crap. Let's go." Nora stood, clutching at her handbag. Young Timothy was still sitting in his chair, nodding his head like a bobbing dog. 

"Let's go, Tim." Nora repeated more sternly. This time, Tim got to his feet and followed his mother out the interview room. Burke tried to reason with her as they exited but to no avail. As soon as she exited, Kimberly's anxious and worried father, Steven Corman strode into the room. 

"Kimberly!"

Upon hearing her father's voice, her head jerked up, glad that someone she could turn to had arrived. She ran straight into his arms. 

"Are you okay?" 

"I'm so sorry." 

Steven kissed his daughter's forehead, and wrapped his arms around her once again. Behind, Detective Suby entered, revealing that they could all go home now. They had done their questioning for now. Kimberly and her father exited, leaving Burke alone in the room, to think. 

Corman household, Mt Abraham, NY 

Kimberly had hardly taken a single bite out of her spaghetti. She just couldn't work up the appetite at all. Steven was growing more concerned with his daughter's state of mind. They had been sitting in silence for more than fifteen minutes. Kimberly broke the silence:

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Did mom ever have any…" Kimberly struggled to find the right word. She didn't want her father thinking she was going crazy. "I don't know, any weird feelings about anything?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like…visions or premonitions?" 

Steven wasn't buying all this. "Sweetie, are you sure you're okay?"

"Dad, I know this sounds crazy but I'm really scared for the others. I don't know. I just have this really bad feeling…that it's not over yet."

**Stonybrook Institution, New York**

"Do you think we've done the right thing?" Alex asked Carter as they walked out to Carter's 4x4 off-roader. They had just left Clear to experiment with some alone time in the mental house. 

"We?" Carter remarked. "What 'we'? Last time I checked, this was your idea. I still can't believe you've sent your girlfriend to live amongst the crazies. Which still begs the question: are we sure its not you who's the crazy one? I almost pity Clear."

Carter fumbled around for his keys in his leather jacket. It had taken almost a week and a half of dry cleaning to get all the cobble marks off his beloved "ladies-magnet" jacket since the sign incident in Paris almost six months ago. Carter reflected on their journey back home. Alex was adamant that they would not be taking a flight back home to New York so Carter had managed to buy his 4x4 in Paris. He had just received the football scholarship money he was supposed to be granted for attending college this spring. 

_Looks like that's never gonna happen…_

They had got a ferry back to the States. It took them three days to finally get home. Least his new favourite accessory had got some good gas mileage on it. That was the best thing he had ever spent his money on – well, that and his new sneakers. 

"I think a week should be enough. I just don't want to worry her about this latest vision I had."

"Too late," Carter remarked, pointing the key in the direction of the off-roader. The car unlocked itself and he opened the door. "Even I'm starting to worry about it." 

Both of the boys got into the jeep, Carter started the engine. Alex clipped on his seatbelt and glanced at Carter. Feeling his eyes on him, the jock faced him, steely eyed. 

"What?"

Alex's eyes went straight towards Carter's seatbelt. Carter stared at him, and mid growl he said:

"Just because I'm letting you ride in my car, doesn't mean you tell me what the fuck to do while I'm driving it. Okay?" 

"Alright, alright. But don't blame me when you end up meeting your maker just like those people did in my vision. Let's get back and see if there's anything about it on the news, and then...."

"And then what?" Carter sighed, subconsciously clicking his seatbelt into place. 

"Then, we'll know the full importance of this vision.  I need some time to figure out what it means."

Carter shifted the 4x4 into reverse and slowly pulled out the parking bay. Alex glanced at the Institution one last time, his last thought of Clear. Carter knew that sad puppy-eyed look too well. 

"Don't worry about it Alex," he smirked. "As long as she doesn't meet Hannibal Lecter, then she's gonna be fine. Plus, if you're worried about missing that late night mackage, I hear almost every night, then take my porn and stay the fuck in your room."

Alex laughed at Carter's crude sense of humour, seeing the funny side. His eyebrows suddenly furrowed in confusion, realising what Carter had just said. 

"Hey, it's not every night you know."

Carter rolled his eyes. "Please. I should know; I sleep in the next fucking room."

_--So, that chapter was filled with too much Chimberly, I think I'm suffering from an allergy known as Chimbo-traumatic fever. I apologise if that last Alex/Carter scene is kinda shitty, I seems that way to me, but then again, I wanted them in so this chapter wouldn't be all Chimberly and Officer Irritating. Plus, its 12.45am and I should be in the land of Z's. Chapter five shall be up pretty soon, I'm hoping. You know what to do…read and review until the next instalment. Luv ya's!--_


	5. Midnight Lover's Dash

**_Disclaimer:_**_ Some of the featured dialogue/scenes in this chapter are directly from Final Destination 2, so please, don't sue me Mr FD2 screenwriters, I still have no cash to give ANY of you! Also, American Werewolf in London and Stephen King's Misery do not belong to me either…_

**_The Cici Academy would like to thank:_**_ Cheers for all the reviews – especially 277 – who just read all existing four chapters and reviewed immediately, Aww…I love u for it!! Greatly appreciated. Dharke, you know I appreciate your reviews too… So I am, and I quote: "__dry humoured maestro" now am I? Aww, thanx. I thought I was the crazy Larter obsessor…oh well, can't say I'd not enjoy being both. You like Timmy/Nora moments? Aww there's another in this chapter…a long with a big chunk of corn at the end…I warned ya last night that you might want the sick bucket…and Curtis: a story set in space or on top of a mountain? A little far fetched for this story, dontchathink…? On wid the show!!_

****

****

**_MT ABRAHAM POLICE STATION_**

Thomas Burke had decided to stick around the station a little while longer. Looking up any relative information to Alex Browning made the officer feel like a teenage school nerd, working late for extra credit. But the thought of that girl Kimberly and her startling revelation about premonitions had intrigued him. In fact, it had intrigued him ever since that night he was dispatched out to the rail tracks to clean up Billy Hitchcock's headless corpse. The Police Internet Database, much like the Internet Movie Database, had everything and anything that police officers needed. 

Over the past three hours, Burke had already come across several Internet websites dedicated to premonitions and strange goings on. He found an article regarding the Paris debacle, but found nothing really of interest. Alex and Carter Horton managed to escape unharmed but then Burke found more on the deaths of the 180 survivors. Burke almost felt sick to his stomach looking at the mangled corpse of Terry Chaney and his stomach wasn't given any lighter treatment when he saw a grizzly picture of a strangled Tod Waggner. His stomach tightened even more as he read about the other 180 survivors deaths…his digested kebab threatened to surface if he didn't shut the web page down. He began a new search, musing over what the Corman girl had mentioned earlier. He had to see her again. If he didn't, he would never cure his curiosity…

_ELSEWHERE_

Smoke threatened to cloud her vision. In her ear, her mother was droning on about Kat's near death experience. The executive had got back into her routine of daily exercise. Though, her exertions didn't really pay off as she still continued to smoke twenty fags a day. Her mother always insisted that she was driving herself to an early grave – much like today's events could have done. Kat found it difficult to concentrate on the television with her mother's gravely voice in her ear. 

"No mother, just turn any station…well, I don't know how you missed it, it's been on all day. Yes mother, channel four is fine." Kat rolled her eyes at her mother's persistence. She herself flicked to channel four, and a segment about the crash was already on. "Here it is! I gotta go okay?" she puffed on her cigarette. "I _gotta_ go!"

_ELSEWHERE_

Over at the Carpenter household, Nora and Tim were sitting glued to the television; listening to the report on the pileup. So too was Eugene, who was working on grading some term papers, his attention immediately drawn to his television. 

****

**_CORMAN HOUSEHOLD, MT ABRAHAM, NY_**

_"…So far, Police are refusing to release the names of the victims until the families are notified…"_

Kimberly walked into the living room to see her father watching the news about the pileup. Kimberly felt her stomach churning; the sheer thought of reliving that nightmare would be enough to send her over the edge. 

_"…A camera from a highway patrol car captured this shocking footage…"_

Kimberly's eyes widened as she saw the image of herself on the television, Officer Burke clutching on to her and dragging her frame to the ground as the truck crashed into her SUV. Steven Corman was transfixed at what he was witnessing on the screen: his daughter's very own life flashing before his eyes. Hearing her unsteady breathing, Steven turned to face Kimberly, who was rooted to her spot at the doorframe. Subconsciously, he picked up the remote, ready to shut off the images. 

"No." Kimberly replied flatly. "Just leave it."

**_ELSEWHERE_**

Rory Peters was having a jamming time with his mates at a local house party. Sniffing coke, getting drunk and shit like that. Rory's mind was spinning and his first reaction at seeing the highway crash on television prompted him to brag in front of his fellow stoners…

_"…in other news, a freak accident claimed the life of a lotto winner. Friends say Evan Lewis was on top of the world after winning $250,000…"_

"Hey." Rory said immediately astounded, as if the drugs were wearing off. "Shhh…" 

_Evan Lewis…dead? _Mused Rory. He listened to the grisly details explaining Lewis's shock death. Ladder through the eye. At the Carpenter household, Tim chewed slowly on his food, trying not to imagine such a horrific sight. Kimberly sat next to her father and felt a sudden chill run down her spine. Something told her that this was just the beginning of something new and terrifying…

**_NEW YORK, NYC_**

_"…I will not be threatened by a walking meatloaf!"_

Carter sat fiddling with his switchblade, watching his favourite movie _An American Werewolf in London_. He had first seen the movie when he was eleven years old and still to this day, remained fascinated with the concept. And those werewolf transformation scenes were just so lush! The love scene between the two leads had just ended. Carter sighed; how he longed for a good roll in the sack. He missed Terry. What he was glad he _was_ missing was those awful noises that often came from Alex's room. Like Carter had explained earlier in the day; he was glad to see the back of Clear for a while. Listening to them two at _it_ annoyed the shit out of him. Not to mention, made him physically sick. What he wanted to do right now was get up, go out, find some ditz and have a good old fuck…

Just then his door flew open and Alex barged straight in, heading straight for the television.

"Hey, Browning. Awfully nice of you to _not _knock and just storm into my fucking room."

Alex flicked the station over. Carter was outraged!

"Hey, freak! Turn that back on; I _was_ watching that."

Alex ignored him and stood in front of the television; listening intently to new developments on the pileup. So it wasn't just some meaningless, random vision. Carter leaned forward, trying to see past Alex's frame, which blocked the TV.

"If you want me to see what's more goddamn important then you better get out the way."

"Sorry." Alex muttered. "Remember that vision I had?"

"Oh, how could I forget?" Carter groaned inwardly.

"Well it came true; the design is not over."

"Aww, does that mean putting Clear into Stonybrook was just you and your stupid overreacting boyfriend issues? Well, see, I told you. I was right. I said it would do fuck all. But did you listen to me? Naw."

Alex just glared at the jock, wondering how thoughtless he could get. 

"Now do you mind, I have a perfectly good wolf transformation sequence coming up." 

"You're taking me to Stonybrook now. We have to get Clear out of there."

Carter suppressed a laugh. "There is no _'we'_. You put her in there; _YOU_ get her out."

"Aw, come on buddy. I need a ride. Just lemme take your car."

"One; don't call me buddy. Two; get a cab and three; what did I tell you about using my car?!"

Carter winced slightly; remembering the time that plank had used his car without permission. And to add salt to the wound, he never filled the tank up. Thoughtless son-of-a-bitch. Too busy fucking Clear in the back, the jock thought sickly. He quickly erased _THAT _image from his brain. 

"You didn't do anything in my car besides drive it did you?" Carter asked carefully.

"What?" Alex looked confused. "No…why?"

"No reason. Just wanted to know if I had to de-Beaver my car."

Alex frowned; it irked him to the bones as to why Carter didn't refrain from comparing his girlfriend to a buck-toothed animal. He never said a word against Terry when she was alive. Then again, if he did, Carter would kick the shit out of him. In truth, Alex didn't have a come back planned. All he knew was that he wanted Clear out of there and with him as soon as possible.

"Are you taking me or not?"

Carter eyed him from the comfortable position he was already situated in. Alex saw the steely glare.

"I'll take that as a 'no' then…"

"Enjoy your walk." Carter smirked from his bedroom. Picking up the remote, he switched back to _American Werewolf in London_…and to his dismay, he saw he had just missed the transformation scenes.

_Browning you little fuckweed…_ muttered the jock. 

Alex quickly threw on his jacket and headed towards the door. He spied Carter's car keys on the nearby glass table. He cast a nervous glance towards Carter's room, to see if he would re-emerge for some more insults. Seconds ticked by, and when Alex was sure Carter wouldn't reappear, he picked up the car keys and exited for Stonybrook. He knew he shouldn't take Carter's precious 4x4 but not even Death would forbid him from seeing her…

**_ELSEWHERE_**

Tim almost jumped from his position on the bed when there came a timid knock at his door. Reading Stephen King's _Misery_ at night was not good. And neither was it good that it was about an obsessive fan named Annie Wilkes, who prowled around the bedroom door. At first, Tim thought Annie's head would pop around the door…he sighed, relieved it was just Nora. His mom; _not_ Annie. He shuddered thinking about the sledgehammer scene.

Nora walked in with a glass of water and some sleeping pills. Timothy had a very trying day.

"I want you to take this so you can get some sleep."

Tim eyed the pills nervously, remembering what Annie did to the author. Slapping himself mentally, Tim knew his mother would never do such a thing. Sometimes he heard her cry herself to sleep over the tragic death of his father. Tim always got teary eyed at the thought of his father. 

"And then tomorrow, it's off to the dentist, which I know you love."

Tim cringed at the disdain dripping from her voice. He hated the dentist. Plus, Timmy was keeping a secret from his mother. He had started chain smoking at school. Surely, his dentist would find out! He put on a nervous smile.

"Now, get some rest." 

She deposited a kiss on his forehead and made her way to the door. Tuck up time seemed such a chore these days. She and his father used to do it together. Family tradition. 

"Mom?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think those guys were BS-ing us today?"

Nora was thankful he used the proper initials. Swearing was such a dirty habit. "Yeah. Some people just need rewiring, that's all. Lights out."

****

**_STONYBROOK, NY_**

Alex carefully pulled Carter's 4x4 into the empty car park. Alex glanced at his wristwatch. Just going on 12.30am…he would never get in at this hour, surely. He switched off the engine and carefully locked up. If he could get the jeep back without a scratch, then the jock would never know his car left the flat. He walked up to the front reception foyer and the automatic doors slid open. The smell of disinfectant immediately attacked his nostrils. Using the sleeve of his jacket to cover his nose, he noticed a cleaner scrubbing the walls. All questions Alex might have had were answered. Hospitals freaked him out, ever since he was last in it himself after touching the power cables at Clear's last year. But he wasn't in a hospital for the injured. He was in a hospital for the sick and twisted minded freaks of this world. To think he had came up with the idea of sending Clear here in the first place made him wonder what Carter had already suggested: was _he_ the crazy one?

The nurse who had admitted Clear earlier in the day was no longer on duty. Alex got on well with that nurse, and seeing as she wasn't sitting at the desk, he would find it difficult to weed his way in.

"Hi, I'm here to see Clear Rivers."

"Visting times are over Mr…?"

"Browning, Alex. This'll only take ten minutes tops, then I'll be outta here."

"I'm sorry, but no visitors are allowed after the designated visiting hour slots. If you are that desperate, I suggest you come back tomorrow. Earliest one we do is at 8am."

"Would if make any difference if I said I was family?"

"And are you, Mr Browning?"

Alex sighed. "No, I'm not. She's my girlfriend. I am as good as family to her."

The nurse stared at Alex blankly. He sighed; defeated. 

"Alright…I'm going."

Feeling Carter-esque, Alex had an idea…

****

**_NEW YORK CITY, NY_**

Carter awoke from his deep sleep and glanced at the clock on his nightstand. 1am. He heard the rain thundering against his window. He'd never get back to sleep with that noise now constant. He stretched and placed his feet on the cold wooden floor. Yawning, he decided to look out the window; see if Alex had reappeared with blondie. If he did, and they started with their shit then he would take his switchblade and permantely castrate Alex and his dick. He'd never fuck a living thing again. Lifting up a blind with one finger, Carter peeked outside down into the car park. 

Nope. No sign of the couple yet. Carter rolled his eyes and dropped the blind down. Then, Carter scowled suddenly. He did a double take. He opened the blinds wider this time and his eyes darted towards an empty space in the car park. His eyes narrowed in anger; gone was his car. Browning had taken his fucking car.

"Fucking son-of-a-bitch!" he exclaimed. His grip tightened on his switchblade and he flipped the blade out more than once, in a state of anger. His blood was coursing through his veins. How dare Alex! 

"Your balls are mine, Browning." He growled. 

**_STONYBROOK, NY_**

Alex was amazed at how he had managed to get in. It had taken him at least twenty minutes to find a back entrance into the godforsaken place. Wire fences were everywhere. What was this place? A _prison_?! Not that it mattered. Because he now stood in the corridors, looking impatiently for Clear's room. He had to look out for surveillance cameras. He had dodged a few outside in the heavy rain. Alex shuddered. He was freezing; his wet clothes sticking to him, his hair matted against his forehead. 

Alex could hear several, anguished cries from a few of the rooms. _Welcome to the world of the crazie_s, Alex mused. Why did he even think to put Clear in this place? What a brainless idea. He despised it when Carter was right…it wasn't very often, but when he was right, he felt really stupid. Turning left, Alex came to a much narrower corridor. Annoyed with all the circling he had done, he would make this his last corridor. By the time he'd find Clear, it'd be morning and the staff would know he had swindled his way in. Best to avoid that situation, he thought.

And as if by magic, or sheer desperation Alex was sure he had found the correct room. He couldn't read much in the dark, but Carter's car keys had a small light on it. He shined it to the door and it read: 

**_NAME: CLEAR RIVERS_**

**_TYPE: VOLUNTARY_**

Alex quirked an eyebrow and shivered slightly. He needed some warmth. He tried the door handle but found it to be locked. Gritting his teeth, he got as much strength as he could muster and pushed against the door, rattling the handle. _Shit!_ He thought. If he wasn't any quieter, he'd wake Clear up. And Alex knew from experience, that if woken up at the wrong moment, Clear could get pretty pissed off. Alex clenched his fists. He knew he should have tried to persuade Carter to come along. He was much stronger…

Alex knocked on the door gently, looking around his surroundings, he could see a moving surveillance camera in the top left hand corner. He shuffled himself into more darkness, knocking again. _Come on, Clear, open the door…_

And just like that his prayers were answered. Well, almost…

"Who is it?" came Clear's voice, considerably quiet. Judging from the thickness of the door, Alex was amazed she had even heard his knocking. He didn't answer which prompted her to ask the same question again. Then silence fell. Alex craned his neck to the door, trying to listen for movement. Had she decided to ignore the knocking and go back to sleep? 

Alex jumped away from the door suddenly as it was obvious it was being unlocked. He almost stumbled over his own feet with the sharpness that Clear liked to open the door when pissed off. She came to the door, an angry, tired, frustrated expression on her face. Alex smiled a sheepish grin at the blonde. Her expression changed when she realised it was Alex.

"Alex!" she exclaimed, then silently cursing for being loud. Grabbing Alex by the hand, she yanked him into the room and shut the door over behind him.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in? Oh my god, you're soaking!"

"Yes, I am. Very wet."  Alex smiled goofily at her stating the very obvious. He was expecting her to get infuriated at the very fact he had just broken in. Instead, she just grinned at him and jumped into his arms. 

"Not that I'm not glad to see you, but why are you here?" Clear asked, pulling away slightly from him. 

"You only left me this morning. Missing me already?"

"More than you could ever know," he replied earnestly, leaning in and giving her a soft kiss. She smiled into his lips and kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck. What was a thoughtful, chaste kiss was now a full on, lip locking session. Clear was right; it only had been a matter of hours, but Alex had felt like their separation had been an eternity. A little bit surprised, although it wasn't enjoyable, Clear managed to pull herself away from him. 

"You weren't kidding." She said, cocking an eyebrow.

"I'm here to get you out of here," Alex said, dropping her arms from him and suddenly turned more serious.

"Why, what's the matter? What's happened…? Is it Carter…?"

"No, no, he's fine. It was that premonition. The one I had about the pileup. It transpired this afternoon. No one I saw in the vision died in the pileup, but one of them just did a few hours ago. A lotto winner named Evan Lewis. It's starting again, Clear." 

Clear looked at Alex and bit her lower lip, listening to his new theory.

"Death is back on our trail. Only this time, it couldn't get to you because you're in here and so in turn, couldn't get to either Carter or me. It's moved on to someone else…a teenage girl. Her name is Kimberly. She's just like me; she has visions. I think somehow, we're sharing them. Death is trying to connect us together."

"Wait a minute, I don't understand. Are you saying that since it couldn't claim me or you or Carter, that its got bored and moved on to another set of innocents?"

"They can't be innocent. Death wanted them to die in that pileup. One way or another, it's gonna claim more victims now. It won't stop until we find a solution."

"And how do we do that?"

"We pay Bludworth another visit. This time, he's gotta be more helpful to us." He collected Clear's hands in his. 

"Come on, get your stuff. I'm taking you out of here."

"Why?"

Alex frowned. "What do you mean, 'why'? Clear, I'm not leaving you here."

"Won't it look strange to everyone, that after not even twenty four hours, I've already decided to leave."

"I don't care what they think," Alex replied. "I care about you. _Us_."

"I am safe here. You just said it yourself. Being in here, Death skipped me didn't it?"

"Yeah, but I want you to be with me. So I know for sure that you are safe."

"Please Alex," Clear pleaded. "Just give it another few days, alright? Then you can come back for me."

Alex sighed and trained his eyes to the ground. He raised a hand to his forehead and rubbed his temple with exasperation. 

"Alex?"

He didn't answer to her prompting. He knew he should never have suggested it.

"Alex? Alex, will you please look at me."

He couldn't deny her that. He gazed into her eyes.

"Why do you do these stupid things for me?"

"I do a lot of stupid things for you, Alex Browning."

"Yes. Going out with me for one." Alex joked nervously.

"I go out with you because I love you, silly."

Alex managed to smile again, just like he had done upon seeing her face. But now he had to leave again. He hated leaving her alone. He really did wish he never suggested this crazy protection method. 

"You know I love you, right?"

Clear nodded. "Yeah. I do."

"I will come back for you, alright? A few more days like you promised, okay?"

She nodded as Alex pulled her towards him and hugged her. He hated saying goodbye. _Any_ kind of goodbye to _anyone_. But this was harder than anything he had ever had to do. 

"I better go. Before someone busts my ass."

However, he didn't move; just stood there. Holding. Feeling.

"And to do that, that involves you letting go of me." Clear prompted, not exaggerating the fact that Alex was almost squeezing the life out of her. He let go, realising he was hurting her. She winced slightly.

"Aww, shit. Did I hurt you?" 

"No, no. I'm fine. Go home, and get some dry clothes on. I don't want you catching a cold. Wouldn't be much use to us…or me."

The visionary just grinned; pulling out the car keys and twisting them around on his fingers. Clear caught sight of the keys, most notably the JD key ring, knowing they were Horton's.

"Is Carter here, too?"

Alex's grin dropped. Realising he took Carter's car without permission, he slapped a hand to his forehead. "Aww. Shit."

"He's not is he?" Clear winced slighting. "You took his car without asking him?"

Alex nodded shamefully. Clear let out a laugh, causing Alex to look up with a confused expression on his features. 

"That's worse than the time…"

"Aww, don't go there." Alex grinned. "He's gonna kick my ass…or possibly, do something worse. This is Carter we're talking about here: macho, pissed off jock." 

"I don't envy your position."

"Nor I…" 

_-- Ahhh. Alright, Dharke are you dead yet? Sorry, ya know that A/C corn was coming…I just can't live without it! It's like uh, Carter and his switchblade…and the constant threat of beating the shit outta Alex. It's part of the parcel…if it's any consolation; I made Alex a right fuckin' loved up plank in that last scene. Anywayz, everyone – y'all know what to do…r/r!!_


	6. The Search for Answers

**_Disclaimer:_**_ Some of the featured dialogue in this chapter is directly from Final Destination 2, so please, don't sue me Mr FD2 screenwriters, I still have no cash to give ANY of you! Any dialogue you don't recognise, Heh, copyright of me. _

**_The Cici Academy would like to thank: 277_**_…You like the idea of a Police Internet Database huh? Think it can rival the Internet Movie Database, uh? My own creation! Schweet! Give Kimmie a heart attack? Oh but that would be TOO easy. Alex beat Clear unconscious? Dharke would LOVE that…then she'd kill him too for the sake of it, muwhaha! And the JD key ring seems to be a favourite with you, too **Dharke**! I'm an unbiased writer…? No comment. Oh and I LOVE giving characters such misfortune…and I would also love to give comment to everything you said but I can't or else the thanks section will soon have a chapter of its own! I've not updated this fic for a while, so if it sucks, just let it suck…and if it's got mistakes, well, I have no Beta reader… :P_

Carter's broad shoulders slouched against the doorframe of the apartment's foyer doors; he was getting a cramp in his legs and lower back from the position his body now occupied. He was waiting. Waiting for Alex's return. Unfortunately, patience was not one of Carter's virtues and it only made matters worse as Alex had not returned the previous night. The impatient jock had the constant image of a trashed motor vehicle painted across his psyche. And it filled him with anger and trepidation. The knife from the switchblade shot out from its holder for the umpteenth time. He had flicked out the weapon, practising what his mind screamed at him to do to Alex once the visionary arrived home. _Castration is in these days,_ he thought luridly.

He glanced at his Tag. 10am. What the hell was Alex doing? And with his 4x4! As much as he wanted his wish of Alex's return to come true he didn't think it would be granted instantaneously. His eyes narrowed as he recognised his 4x4 rounding the last sharp left into the parking lot. _Oh yes, castration. Definitely. _He smirked at the previous thought. _No more use for your dick now, Browning!_

Carter's gaze flicked across the exterior of the jeep, scanning for any damage. Luckily for Alex, there wasn't even a dent. He stood, waiting for Alex to exit and make his way over to him. He saw Alex's face fall at the sight of his presence. On occasion, after late nights, Carter would not rise until midday. Alex had taken the 4x4 believing Carter would end up getting drunk and falling asleep. But no midday rising today; Alex was a dead man.

"Carter, it's not what it looks like," Alex tried, locking the jeep and hurrying over to Carter. The jock stopped his slouching and stood up straight, giving Alex indications that he was in for a pummelling.

"It's not, is it?" Carter countered, playing along. "Not what it looks like? Sure."

"I took it to Valet."

"I see."

_Valet…you dirtied my car, motherfucka! _

Alex wasn't prepared for Carter grabbing him by the shoulders. Not that his usual course of violent action surprised him anyway.

"Don't lie to me, Browning." Carter sneered, "There isn't one fucker around here who _doesn't_ overcharge. You took it to see your girlfriend. After I specifically told you not to!"

Alex averted his gaze; guilty as hell. He shrugged himself out of Carter's grip, defending himself.

"I don't trust the design, Carter. Surely you'd understand that."

"The point of her being in there is to keep her away from the fucker. Let it take its course."

"It's already taking its course!" Alex hollered as Carter stared him down. "Death caused that pile up. And don't say it was coincidence, Carter."

"Well payback's a bitch," retorted Carter, not caring for the freeway accident. 

"Oh that's nice, real fucking sensitive."

"Whatever," muttered Carter, looking off in another direction. As Alex was straightening himself out, relaxing his muscles, Carter momentarily made them sore again as he nudged him on the shoulder. _What now…?_

"Check it out, hot blonde making her way over."

Alex turned to look where his friend was looking. She was about 10 feet away, at the end of the parking lot. She exited her car, locked it and proceeded to make her way over to the boys. Carter pocketed his knife as her shapely body neared them. _Hot damn! _

Carter put on his best grin as she stepped up the stairs. "Morning beautiful."

The blonde gave him a sultry, seducing smile – clearly interested. "Hi…"

Alex watched the scene unfold with disgust. The only thing they couldn't defeat in this world was after them, killing others to kill them and here was Carter Horton; flirting. Alex rolled his eyes as Carter asked the girl for the number of her apartment.

Once the chat was over, Carter turned back to Alex. He smirked. "Now _she_ is fuckable."

"Are you Alex Browning?" interrupted a third, new voice.

Carter turned to his left to see a girl standing apprehensively behind Alex. She was around five foot eight, brunette, edgy and…slightly annoying. Carter was not impressed.

"Now, she _ain't_," he muttered garishly into Alex's ear, referring to the complement he paid the blonde super babe. Alex sighed at Carter's remark, turning to look at the newcomer. The jock eased his teasing and backed away from Alex.

"He might be. And who the fuck are you?"

The brunette's eyes darted to Carter, revolted by his unfriendliness. "Who asked _you_?" she replied, matching his poisonous tone.  Carter shrugged, making a face at her. _Don't talk down to me, bitch…_

"Carter…!" Alex reprimanded, a little too late. "Do I know you?"

"You might. I'm Kimberly Corman. You're one of the Flight 180 survivors."

"Oh, look!" said Carter, putting on a high-pitched tone. "A groupie! Congratulations, Browning."

"Is he always this insensitive?" Kimberly inquired.

"This is one of his better days," Alex answered, somewhat truthfully. "Yeah, I'm Alex. This is Carter Horton. What do you know about Flight 180?"

"What do you know about the pile-up on route 23?" she said, mirroring Alex's question slightly.

"Jeez, she's fucking _obsessed_ with you Browning!" Carter sighed, walking back over to the doors and slouching again. _Hah, wait until Clear hears about Alex's bit on the side… _

"You're one of the survivors, aren't you?" guessed Alex, trying to be as sensitive as he could. He knew all too well what a touchy subject these unexplained accidents were. "You're the one who tried to warn everybody. I saw it too, Kimberly."

Kimberly shifted slightly, becoming increasingly nervous as Alex recalled the very events she herself had experienced in the past twenty-four hours. "I thought it was just a dream," she said vulnerably.

"I wish _this_ were a fucking dream." Carter remarked, once again flicking his switchblade for ample amusement. Kimberly eyed him, contempt filling her bones. He was really pissing her off with his flippant remarks.

"I need your help, Alex," she pleaded, trying to ignore Carter. "You beat Death the last time…"

Carter scoffed. He had heard it all. "Some 'defeat' if it's after you…you're not getting a single ounce of my help. Or his, for that matter. Just deal with it in your own way. We want nothing to do with you."

"I wasn't asking _you_ anyway." She turned to Alex again. "A guy from the pile up, Evan Lewis…he died in a fire incident afterwards, I'm afraid something terrible is gonna happen to the others."

Carter stood, now getting irritated by her constant rebuffing. "Look _Kimba_…why don't you just go piss off, huh? We're not your fucking charity! Best thing you can do is go start praying to God. Don't involve us!"

"Hey way a minute Carter…we're already…" Alex tried but his intervention was worthless.

"Zip it Browning. Nothing, ok? No helping whatsoever."

"You're a tactless asshole." Kimberly spat, retreating down the stairs, fiddling with her car keys. "You didn't deserve to make it off that flight alive!"

"Could say the same about you and that goddamn pile up."

"If you won't help me, then I'll find somebody else who will." she seethed.

"Good luck with that!" Carter yelled back at her. Within the several seconds that followed, Kimberly had started her engine and the car screeched out of the parking lot. "Never thought I'd be happy to see Clear as your fuck toy - over that bitch." Alex turned to Carter, furious.

"What did you do that for?"

"I am not helping her, okay? And you can forget what I just said about _you_ not helping. You're the type who wants to help idiots like her!"

"You know fine well she's not hallucinating about this shit. She's right - you _are_ a tactless asshole."

Carter stood there, just listening to Alex's ranting. He ought to hit him, but Carter didn't react to petty name-calling. Alex's words didn't cut into him. He had been tough all his life and the whole incident with the flight and Terry's death only made him more invincible to the world. But not to Death…even _he_ knew that deep down, that was the one thing he could not avoid. But he sure as hell wasn't helping out. Hell would freeze over before he helped out that bitch.

"I'd rather be that than some puppet in that goddamn Design." Carter resolved finally. His stare bore into Alex's. Alex badly wanted to know what was going on in that head of his. Carter let out a breath, turning completely serious.

"She'll find Clear you know. Anyone involved with Flight 180. Do you want her to be on Death's list again, uh?" Carter didn't know he could be that concerned. _For blondie of all people_… "Look, I'm only gonna help if its in the interest of keeping myself alive."

Alex didn't know how to react. Carter Horton willing to help others? Surely Alex had been knocked unconscious by a falling brick…and why did that sound so familiar? Alex wasn't sure whether to feel grateful for Carter's apparent change of heart or feel anxious as to what his hidden agendas really were. He acknowledged the jock with a simple nod of his head.

"So we'll let Kimberly get in contact with Clear then…"

"There goes that 'we' again," Carter grimaced. "You have some serious problems with grammar Browning - to think I'd ever do anything that lands me in the same jail cell as you."

---

**_STONYBROOK, NY_**

She hadn't realised she had been sitting outside the Stonybrook Institution for well over an hour. Kimberly Corman was wrestling the inner demons within. _What if I don't get any help from her at all?_ Her mind panicked. She glanced up at the building, the fog threatening to completely block her vision. _If I do, it might not be what I wanna hear…_ She sighed, taking note of her shaking fingers…_You've stared Death in the face and you're worried about the nut house?  _ 

"Get a grip, Kimberly." She chastised aloud.

Switching off the engine, she reached across into the passenger's seat, picked up her jacket and exited the car. Walking up the steps, she acknowledged a couple of Orderlies from the Institution taking a wheel-chaired patient for a walk around the gardens.  She shivered with fright. With this foggy weather making the scenario look worse – it was suffice to say - Stonybrook creeped the hell out of her.

_One meeting, that's all Kimberly. _She reminded herself again. _Then you'll be outta here…hopefully, with answers…_

---

Kimberly had never seen so much white in all her life. As she followed a Nurse down the corridor, she saw that the institution's walls were plastered top to bottom in white paint. Stonybrook was dull, Kimberly mused, but she knew the inhabitants were far from dull. She wasn't particularly paying attention to the nurse, who had begun to rhyme off a list of items not allowed in the room with her…she only heard the anguished cries echoing down the corridor behind her. The nurse carried a chart filled with forbidden items and an empty basket on top. 

"At the request of the patient you will relinquish any sharp objects such as: nail files, pencils, pens, safety pins, bobby pins…" the nurse glanced at Kimberly's neck, gesturing with her free hand. "Your necklace…"

Kimberly pulled herself from her daze and unfastened her late mother's necklace. She dropped it into the basket sitting on top of the chart. The nurse continued on with her checklist…

"…matches, lighters, belts, belt buckles, earrings, hair clips, glasses, shoelaces, paperclips, watches, money clip, pocket knives…"

Kimberly rolled her eyes. _What kind of mental head IS this Clear Rivers?! _She dropped several belongings into the basket…the walk down the corridor seemed to be taking a lifetime. _So much for quick ins and outs…_

"…food, drinks, keys, cell phone – you got a cell phone on you?"

Rummaging into her pockets, she found her car keys and cell and relinquished them to the Nurse.

"Poisons, pills and medication."

Kimberly had no more to give. The nurse gave a reassuring smile. "Great. Oh, and let me see your nails."

Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Kimberly held her hands out to older woman, letting her inspect them. She gave a satisfied chuckle. "Good, then I think we're all done."

They came to the end of the corridor. _Thank god, _thought a relieved Kimberly. She couldn't stand walking anymore. Glancing behind she saw that the corridor they had just walked down was a long one. Narrow too, but the sheer whiteness of the walls made it look even longer. She turned in time just to see the nurse swiping a card down a security lock. The door opened with a steam like hissing, as if Kimberly was entering a space ship. The question that had been plaguing Kimberly's mind threatened to surface. She could not take going into this room knowing she was about to meet Hannibal Lecter.

"Wait, is she dangerous or something?"

The nurse sensed the apprehension in the teenager's voice. She shook her head dismissively. "No honey, but she expects _you_ are."

Within several seconds of entering the new corridor, the inhabitants of this ward were far inferior to the previous ones. Screams were louder and more tormented. Kimberly trembled. All of this could have been avoided if Alex Browning had helped her. If it wasn't for that asshole Carter rudely interrupting… Now, all of Kimberly's hopes lay with Clear.

"How long are they gonna keep her locked up?"

"Depends on her I guess," the nurse replied with brutal honesty. "She's voluntary."

Upon reaching their final destination, the nurse turned sharply on her heels, leaving Kimberly to stand in front of the door leading to Clear's sanctum. The nurse's last statement echoed in Kimberly's ears. '_She's voluntary'_. _Not many true psychos are voluntary…what's her reason?_

The door slid open revealing a room also covered top to bottom in white. These walls were padded unlike the walls in the corridor. In the confined room the only objects were a bed and a small TV monitor. Kimberly couldn't help feel slightly appalled. How could anyone live in something so restricting? The brunette stepped gingerly inside.

She surveyed the span of the room, now noticing several newspaper cuttings and articles splayed across the walls. She saw a red arrow running from one end to another. Also attached were post-its with handwriting over them. Kimberly had no clue what was Clear was writing about…but if it could help her she wanted to know about it.

"Clear Rivers?"

Kimberly mentally smacked herself for such an obvious observation. _That's just what you want her to think Kim – that you're stupid. _She ventured further forward into the room, as if going to shake hands with Clear standing opposite. Kimberly was slightly taken aback when she made movement backwards as if trying to step away from her.

"Don't come any closer."

_Jeez, nice to meet you too_. _If you're going to be like this, why agree to see me?_

"They told me you had something to do with the pile up on Route 23." Clear added, as if she were reading Kimberly's mind. _So no pleasantries then…_

"Look, I don't know how to explain it. But I saw the pileup before it happened," she cleared her throat, trying to push the lump in her throat further down and calm herself. "I saved some people."

"And now you think Death is after you? Nice work." Despite herself and the scenario in which Kimberly had come to Clear, the blonde smiled. "Maybe if you're real lucky, you'll end up in here with me. Anything else?"

"I spoke with your boyfriend…or rather, I tried to…"

"You saw Alex?" Clear's smile dropped.

"Yeah, but his friend…the jock. He was rude. Told me he wanted nothing to do with helping. Alex too."

"Nothing surprises me about that," Clear muttered. _But what surprises me is that Alex didn't volunteer to help out…should I?_

"So I came to you, thought maybe you could help me. I told them that one of the pile up survivors died in a fire accident. But that jock – Carter – he dismissed me as if I were out of mind. What if the others are in danger?"

Clear shrugged. "If you put them on the list they're already dead."

Kimberly's brows drew together in interest. 

"List? What list?"

"Death's list." Clear clarified. "The survivors of Flight 180 died in the exact order they were meant to. That was Death's original design. The list. But we avoided it…for as long as we could, anyway."

Kimberly was livid. "You're saying I was supposed to die in that accident with my friends? You're telling me I'm next?"

Clear watched her with intense eyes. This was way more than she could handle. She was new to all of this. The theories, the design – all of it. She doubted the reason to help the brunette. Strangely, she sided with Carter on the subject. What if her involvement made things worse? It could cost the three of them their lives…Clear wasn't particularly favouring that outcome.

"You said that someone else died that night. Meaning someone's intervened."

Kimberly raised a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes and reluctantly pulling the pile up images to the forefront of her mind. The scene played vividly…the logs tumbling catastrophically from the back of the truck…cars skidding everywhere…that police officer dragging her to safety…

Kimberly opened her eyes. That was it. Officer Burke was her rescuer…he had intervened.

"Officer Burke pulled me away from the collision that killed my friends."

"Congratulations, you'll be the last to go." The blonde responded rather spitefully. Her tone then shifted into mock understanding. It was almost like she was getting a kick out of revealing the true nature of Death's Design. As if passing it on would rid her of any attack. "But don't worry, once the others are dead it'll come back for you. Always does."

"That doesn't make sense," Kimberly tried to reason. "You said you die in the order you were originally meant to. But my friends died last in my premonition _not_ first."

The derisive look that was etched upon Clear's face was erased…she had not thought about that. "Wait. Died last?" a look of realisation now formed. _You son-of-a-bitch_…

"Backwards."

Kimberly looked confused by such a short response to her revelation. _What does THAT mean…?_

"Are you sure?"

Clear turned her back to Kimberly and looked up at the Flight 180 theories above her head. She stood there, trying to make sense of the ramblings she had written while Kimberly gave out more sordid details of the survivor's deaths.

"In my premonition, that Nora woman and her kid died. Then Evan, then me and my friends." Kimberly was dumbfounded. "Why is this even happening to me?"

Clear lowered her eyes from the wall, taking in Kimberly's question. All those painful memories threatened to surface. Flight 180. The aftermath and of course, the Paris debacle. She remembered that night in the hospital after Alex had saved her from certain death, how she sat by his side for hours on end praying for him to wake up. When he eventually did that brought relief into her heart and yet at the same time it brought all the questions that had been left unanswered. Why had Death had brought such suffering to their small community. _Yet it gave me Alex,_ Clear thought selfishly. She kept her back to the newcomer as she spoke.

"That's what Alex used to ask himself." She stared off into the depths of all the theories on the wall. She could sense Kimberly's unease behind her as the silence kicked in.

Tired of her ignorance, Kimberly almost snapped. "So what am I supposed to do?"

_Answer me, damnit! _"Clear!"

"Watch out for the signs."

Kimberly shook her head in disbelief. _Could she get anymore cryptic?_ "What?"

Clear turned to face her, an intrigued glint in her eye. "Have you ever seen anything creepy or ominous? In-your-face kind of irony?"

"The songs on the radio?" questioned Kimberly, though she had no idea why she was questioning. _Am I awaiting Clear's approval or something?_ "Yeah. There was this guy in a beer truck. Everything that was on the road."

"Well don't ignore it." Clear warned. "Recognising those signs usually means the difference between life and death."

_What's that supposed to mean?_ Kimberly couldn't think straight. But what she did know was that Clear hadn't really told her anything._ 'Watch out for the signs?' _What kind of bullshit was that?!

"You've gotta help me."

"I don't have to do anything," Clear finalised. She wasn't willing to risk her life. Or Alex's and Carter's. It just wasn't worth the risk. She could tell Kimberly would disapprove but that was her problem. Clear didn't want any more problems heaped on to her current ones.

Kimberly realised this was something she couldn't negotiate. She remembered the words she had said to Alex, the ones about beating Death. The words that were greeted by Carter's ridicule. She had no idea why she even wanted to repeat herself…she thought that Clear might have had a better understanding.

"You never did tell me why you're in here."

"You tell me. Go on, amuse me."

"I think this your way of dealing with this."

"Sure as hell isn't."

"How silly of me, only idiots believe plans like these actually work."

"Right back at you. Did you really think I'd have the solution to your problems? If I did I wouldn't be in this shithole! Alex, Carter and I would be out there trying to prevent this from happening. But reality doesn't work that way. You can't beat the invincible. If you were smart you'd save yourself and forget about the others."

"How can you say that? You have a responsibility!"

"My friends died. And Alex almost went with them. That's how I can say that."

Clear tore a newspaper cutting from the wall and thrust it into Kimberly's hands. Kimberly straightened it out and read over it. On the single article were grisly descriptions of how her friends had died. Kimberly shuddered. _What point are you trying to prove?_

"I spent 72 hours in a fucking hospital at Alex's bedside, hoping to God he would pull through from severe electrocution." Clear snapped. Kimberly looked at her soberly, listening.

"Do you know what it feels like having to watch a cataclysmic disaster almost claim the life of that very same person just a mere short months later? I doubt you do. Because you've never had to deal with this before…and you have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

Kimberly was about to respond but in truth she had no real come back. And even if she did, she wouldn't be able to change Clear's stubborn mind.

"Get out. Before you hurt me or yourself."

Kimberly shot the blonde a scalding look, as if she had just been slapped in the face. In a way, she had. It seemed no one wanted to help her. Maybe she ought to just help herself. She walked towards the door not feeling an ounce of dejection. She still had Officer Burke. On that thought, she turned to Clear menacingly.

"You know what?"

Clear simply shrugged her shoulders. "What?"

"I think you're a coward."

Clear only smirked. _You're one to talk. You're just as scared and it's apparent you don't need MY help. _

"In answer to your question: I do think you hide out here because you're too damn bitter and selfish to help anyone. Just like Carter. Pity you two don't date, you'd be well suited."

"Yeah and you'd be well suited too…in the _ground_."

Kimberly's eyes flared at her emphasis on the final word. She truly believed it would please Clear to see her six feet under. That way she couldn't blame anything that happened to her based on Kimberly's involvement. _You're all the same…_

"In my opinion you're already dead."

Clear gave her a fleeting glance then feigned a girlish wave. Kimberly stepped outside the door of the padded room and gave the blonde one last glance. Clear's fist hit a small button the wall beside the monitor, effectively shutting the door on her face. Knowing she wanted to see her walk away dejectedly, Kimberly decided she would not give her the satisfaction. On the monitor, Clear's eyes were greeted with the obscene gesture of Kimberly's middle finger.

_Ohhh, scary. _ 

Once Kimberly had disappeared down the corridor, Clear removed herself from her position in front of the monitor and sauntered over to the bed. Sitting down, her thoughts drifted off to Alex and how much more at ease she would feel near him. Even Carter's strangely endearing primitiveness would make her feel comfortable. Maybe it was time to leave Stonybrook because she sure as hell wasn't spending another night there…not with Kimberly thinking she could stop the inevitable…

---

"Spring cleaning?"

Alex's head perked up at the mocking question and turned around to see Carter standing at the entrance to his bedroom. There were several books and newspapers strewn across the floor, open at specific pages detailing road accidents and unsolved mysteries.

"Don't you have anything better to do than mock?" came Alex's exasperated sigh as he emptied one of the desk drawers and rummaging through it.

"Lemme think…_no_. You know there's nothing new in those books."

"Well maybe I missed something."

"With the speed you read at? I doubt it."

"Again with the mocking."

Carter's trained eyes were focused entirely on Alex's rummaging hands and he couldn't help but notice a small black box standing out from underneath the junk. His eyes suspiciously narrowed as he stepped up behind the blond and looked over his shoulder.

"What's this…?"

Alex barely had time to react to the question as Carter's hand shot out and snatched up the box. The Visionary turned to Carter and tried to grab the box from his hands. Being the star player when he was on the Mt Abraham football team, Carter easily tossed the box from one hand into the other. His dodging skills were simply impossible for Alex to mediate. He started backing away from Alex and slowly opened the box.

"Horton – don't open that…"

"Screw you." He said playfully and extended the lid of the box to its full length. The box sported a diamond engagement ring. Carter tried not to laugh but he couldn't contain himself any longer.

"For _me_?" Carter squealed in a high-pitched girly tone. "You shouldn't have." He raised his hand to his mouth and mocked the stereotypical woman's reaction. Alex just rolled his eyes picking up several books and slotting them neatly under his arm.

"See, this is exactly the reaction only _you_ are capable of."

"Hum…what'll you do if she says 'no'?"

"She won't."

Carter leaned back against the desk, opening up his enclosed hand to reveal the box. He tossed it into the air several times and caught it repeatedly.

"You've got a lot of faith. Although, I shoulda guessed this fucked up idea would enter your head."

Alex managed to snatch the box away from Carter's open palm and proceeded to shrug past him in his quest to get out of the conversation. "I don't need faith, I _know _her."

"And so do I. Clear doesn't seem the type to be tied down…well, more like tied to a tree."

Carter saw the look Alex gave him as he entered the living room. Alex set the books and newspapers down on the glass table and began to flick through them. Carter shook his head in disbelief.

"Don't gimme that look, Browning. Death is stalking your ass and all you can think about is getting fucking married. _Now_ isn't the time!"

"Now's a good a time as any." Alex shot back, nonchalantly flicking through the pages of last night's edition of the New York Times. Carter sighed and made himself comfortable in his recliner. There would be no reasoning with that plank.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that crap." He said as he picked up the remote and flicked on the television. The sight that greeted him made him repel. "Urgh, what is _this_ shit! GAH!"

Alex took eyes off the newspaper momentarily and glanced up to see a wildlife program on birds – and in particular, pigeons. Within several seconds of taking his eyes off the screen, a searing pain shot through his head. He cried out, garnering Carter's attention. The jock leapt up out of his seat, horrified and began to shake his hands at Alex as if trying to get his attention.

"_Aww_, not another one."   

The vision quick and Alex could hardly keep up with the fast clues hitting him…

_A windowpane. _

_Pigeons crashing into it wildly._

_Dentist's chair._

"Hey, fucking snap out of it!" Carter began to click his fingers in rapid succession. But to no avail, the vision would not let Alex out of the firm vice grip he was in now. Pissed off with Alex's persistent tossing of his head, Carter pulled his hand back and whacked the seated teen across the head. Alex's eyes snapped open at the contact and tried to catch his breath. Carter stood back, arms crossed, his look seething.

"Another vision," was all Alex could say.

"No fucking shit, Browning." Carter said flatly. "What was it this time?"

"I don't know."

Carter was incensed. "Jeez, how can you _not_ know what you saw?"

"There was nothing of obvious meaning Carter!" he snapped, feeling dazed. "Something about pigeons crashing into windows."

Carter took a glance at the TV and realised this particular vision was triggered from the nature program on Discovery. He took a mere glance at the apartment windows then eyed Alex. Alex watched in anticipation as Carter walked over, and yanked the blind up to see if this latest premonition was meant for them. However, all Carter received was a temporarily blinding from the morning sun. Alex shielded his eyes, still sensitive to the rippling vision. 

"Obviously isn't coming here," Carter remarked, taking the blinds down to their original place. He turned around to face Alex again, who now seemed much calmer. "What else did you see?"

"A dentist's chair, I think."

Carter imagined all sorts. "Fuck, your visions are becoming bloody random and meaningless!"

"They're never meaningless. Unless…" he trailed off.

Carter stood, waiting for an answer. When he didn't get one within ten seconds, he flung his arms out in exasperation. "Unless WHAT?!"

"Kimberly."

"What about her?" Carter tutted, his look instantly turning sour. And after all he had said about not helping that annoying bitch, looked like he was going to have to. "You think she's next?"

Alex nodded, jumping to his feet. He realised that with Clear being safe in Stonybrook their experiment had worked. It had skipped Clear and had gone onto the next person: Kimberly Corman. The blond grabbed his jacket and tossed Carter's his car keys.

"Where are we going?"

"The medical centre."

---

Thomas Burke felt as if he was intruding on Kimberly Corman's house as he spied through the porch window. He had called the previous night but her father had told him she was sleeping. His morning had been besieged with phone calls from the worried pile up survivors. Evan Lewis's shock death had gotten them all into panic. He thought it best to get them all together in one place and that included Kimberly. She knew more than she was letting on.

The house seemed completely empty and Burke worried that this trip had turned into a waste. Sighing, he prepared to leave and walk over to his vehicle when a car pulled into the driveway. He instantly recognised the driver of the very person he had been looking for.

Kimberly exited the car and walked up to Burke who stood in casual clothes on the porch. She could tell he too was worried about the strange circumstances surrounding Evan's death.

"I tried calling you last night," Burke revealed. "But your dad said you were sleeping."

"Evan Lewis is dead."

"Yeah. I've been getting calls all morning from everybody who was on the on-ramp. We're meeting tonight at my apartment."

Kimberly was surprised. "Wait, so you actually believe all this Death stuff?"

Burke shifted slightly. "No, not at first, I didn't. Last year I was dispatched to clean up one of the Flight 180 survivors. And now all this…gains a law officer's interest."

"Clean up? I don't –"

Her sentence was cut short as she noticed several reflections cast into the porch window over Burke's right shoulder. The reflections quickly turned into that of dozens of pigeons. Kimberly ducked, covering her head. Burke watched, his eyebrows rose in confusion. _What the hell--?_

Kimberly stopped clutching her head when she realised it was safe. She stood up fully and looked Burke in the eyes. "Did you see that?"

"See what?"

"Pigeons."

"Pigeons?"

"It's a sign!" Kimberly realised, clutching her mother's necklace.

 "A sign? Of what?"

She frantically paced in front of him making Burke wonder if he would become queasy just watching her frigid movements. "If Clear Rivers is right about the order then…Nora and Tim are going to be attacked by pigeons."

Burke was well and truly lost.  _Where is she getting this?  _"I'm not following you…"

"They're next on Death's list! If we don't find them they're going to die."

"Alright, we'll call in on their house, hopefully they're still there. Come on, we'll use my car." Burke said ushering the brunette to the cop car.

As Kimberly strapped herself into the passenger seat the last thought she had was of the Carpenters…_Clear had better be right about this or it's going to be on her conscience…_

CHAPTER SEVEN: 'SHATTERED GLASS' APPEARING SOON! (_When I can be arsed that is)_


	7. Shattered Glass

**_Disclaimer:_**_ Some of the featured dialogue in this chapter is directly from Final Destination 2, so please, don't sue me Mr FD2 screenwriters, I still have no cash to give ANY of you! Any dialogue you don't recognise, Heh, copyright of me. _

**_The Cici Academy would like to thank: _**_Dharke…ever faithful reviewer. Look! I have churned out chapter seven now, after a coupla months break. Oooh get me! Anyways…seems like you had an entertaining time reading the last chapter…your review showcased that with, eh, 'high-pitched giggles'?! Uh, I'm not gonna attempt to comment on everything in your review, or else this thank-you's section will inherit a chapter of it's own…but it's much appreciated. As always. And hey! I owe YOU £20? Wtf! Thanks to the comment from Piper as well. I hope you'll enjoy what's to come in my own little FD world…Any spelling mistakes here, ppl, forgive me. I'm such a lazy writer…_

Observation.

That's what Tim had learned in Biology. How to successfully study other walks of life. Watch them grow and live. Now, he could finally put that observation into practice. His eyes were focused completely on the fish in Ellis Medical Complex's in-house aquarium - scrutinising every inch of the tank, as if looking for something. One of the fish bore an uncanny resemblance to that of Nemo the Clown Fish. Tim chuckled inwardly._ Guess I found Nemo…_

"The doctor is ready for you now, Timothy."

Tim groaned at the use of his proper name and turned up to see Jean, his dentist's Asian receptionist. The teenager turned around to face his mother, game face on. This was it. Time to loose a tooth or two. Nora's eyes travelled up from the engrossing article she was reading in _Reader's Digest_ and locked with Tim's. He had a look of total seriousness on his face.

"If he gives me the gas and I wake up with my pants unbuttoned…we ain't paying."

Nora's eyes widened and so too did her mouth; completely aghast at Tim's remark. "Tim!"

He smirked, turned and left his mother to wallow in her self- reluctance. Meanwhile, Jean gave him an accusing stare as he stepped into surgery number one. Tim shook his head, annoyed.

_Jeez, lighten up. _

Shutting the door behind him, Tim looked around to his left to see Dr Forbes rinsing his hands out at the sink. The older man acknowledged him with a nod. "What happened to you yesterday? We missed you."

"We got hung up at that accident on Route 23."

The doctor took in a breath, recalling the events. "Good lord. You're lucky that you're okay."

He motioned for Tim to sit in the chair then produced a pair of synthetic gloves from a Kleenex shaped box and rustled his way into them. He pulled up a stool and sat to the right of Tim. For a brief second, Tim remembered the movie _Marathon Man_ and it's infamous torture scene involving Lawrence Olivier and Dustin Hoffman's rather unfortunate teeth. Tim flicked his tongue across all his teeth, trying to shake off the image.

"Your mom says you've been having a lot of pain lately."

"Not really."

His casual expression quickly altered into one of paranoia as the doctor dragged over a tray full of metallic picks and extracting forceps to his side. With all the construction going outside, Dr Forbes tried to still his quivering hands as his concentration took a slight knock.

**_DR FORBES' WAITING AREA _**

Outside in the waiting area where Nora was patiently for her son, not a single member of staff or the other queued patients seemed to notice the cracking plastic pipes on the fish aquarium. The water spurted out in a fluxed change of pace, dribbling down the wall beneath the window and onto the electrical socket below. The reaction caused a small spark to be emitted from the plug.

**_SURGERY ONE, DR FORBES' DEPARTMENT_**

Tim felt Dr Forbes' metallic tooth pick causing sharp friction as it scraped across his older fillings. Forbes gave a disgruntled sigh, prodding around more with his trusty metallic tooth pick and mirror.

"I'm disappointed Tim," he revealed frankly. Tim knew what had caused such displeasure. "Does your mother know you've been smoking?"

"Uh-huh." Mumbled Tim, lying. Oh how his mother hated lies! Even the little white ones!

As if punishment for the lie, Tim flinched when the pick struck a nerve. "OW!"

"That is going to need filling." Forbes said.

_BANG! _

The doctor almost fell out of his seat as he diverted his gaze to the window just in time to see an injured pigeon pick itself up from the window ledge. It had crashed beak first into the window, causing a rippled crack. Forbes muttered, his heart rate slowly returning to normal speed. _Goddamnit!_

"Damn those Pigeons," he cursed softly. "How many times am I going to have to replace those goddamned windows?"

Tim's petrified eyes erratically followed Forbes' brisk movement as he set down the pick and mirror on the tray and opted for the large syringe. Forbes tested the amount of liquid in the syringe by gently squirting some out. "This will only sting for a second."

His hand hovered over Tim's mouth. "Open big…" Tim refused at first but slowly opened his enervated lips. Forbes noticed the reluctance.

"A little wider…" he prompted. Tim did so with unwillingness and eyed the window nervously; trying to take his mind off the fact the needle had started to penetrate his gums. Suddenly, Tim's eyes widened as he saw another pigeon attack the window pane…

_BANG!_

Dr Forbes hand slipped and almost pierced Tim's cheek as the irritating pigeons began to get on his last nerve. Tim shifted violently, alarmed at the rapid movement.

"How the hell do they expect me to…" the doctor trailed off, realising something. He gave Tim a glance. "Would you rather have the laughing gas?"

Tim nodded his head fiercely, desperately not wanting to face the jag. The doctor nodded, satisfied with his preferred choice of anaesthesia. He turned his head to the door. "Jean! I'm going to need you in here!"

**_DR FORBES' WAITING AREA_**

The sound of heavy drilling and banging made it difficult for the residents to hear their own thoughts let alone hear anyone talking to them. Jean sat at the desk, the phone pressed against her ear in one hand, her index finger jammed into the other ear – hoping to hear the patient on the other end of the line.

"WHAT? YOU NEED TO SPEAK UP! THERE'S TOO MUCH NOISE!"

On the linoleum floor, the spilling fountain of water from the fish aquarium slowly made its way across to Nora on the couch. She could hardly concentrate on reading with all the hostility outside. Instead she focused on the stressed receptionist.

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Jean continued, shouting into the phone. "EXCUSE ME? WHAT?" her look stiffened. "YES! THE SIXTH AT 2PM!"

**_SURGERY ONE, DR FORBES' DEPARTMENT_**

"JEAN!" exclaimed the doctor after the fourth unsuccessful attempt at garnering the receptionist's attention. He sighed, picking up the oxygen mask and applied it to Tim's visibly shock white face.

"Now, you'll be awake, alright? You won't be able to move much due to the grogginess."

The doctor switched on two compression tanks: oxygen and Nitrous Oxide and charged up the drill. Within minutes of the gas taking effect, Forbes lowered the drill into Tim's mouth. Even through the anaesthesia, Tim could slightly feel the drill getting to work on his cavity. Poor Timmy cried a tear.

**_ELSEWHERE_**

****

Burke's foot pressed harder on the accelerator as Kimberly phoned up direct enquiries looking for the Carpenter's home phone number. Burke knew exactly where the widow and her son lived but his memory wasn't too clear on their telephone number. Burke was pitiful with numbers. Kimberly began a new conversation into the cell.

"Hi, may I speak with Nora please, it's an emergency," Kimberly asked politely but firmly. Odd, Burke thought, he seemed to like the dominance in Kim's voice. He mentally slapped himself for having such illusions. "They are? And where is…oh that's great. Thank you."

Burke momentarily took his eyes off the road and looked at the brunette, ready for an influx of information.

"The cleaning lady says they're at the dentist in the Ellis Medical Complex off 14th and Main."

"Hold on." Burke instructed as he ferociously jerked the wheel to the left and executed a perfect U-turn. Kimberly knew the intensity of such an act…her own skidding at the Route 23 accident still haunted her.

**_ELLIS MEDICAL COMPLEX_**

Alex watched people passing in and out the complex with the increasing urgency to speak with Kimberly. Carter stood by his side, also scanning for the brunette. He had less patience than Alex and was almost close to just barraging his way through the crowd to enter the complex and find the damned girl himself. By his better judgment, the jock wouldn't have been here. But he had made a promise…he promised to see off Death once and for all. _For Terry_. He began tapping his foot impatiently and crossed his arms in the usual Horton fashion. Alex could sense his displeasure at waiting.

"I just don't see why we don't fucking walk in and find her." Carter moaned.

"We can't just walk in and demand to see her," Alex reasoned. He knew they at least ought to try and find her but he was unsure of whether or not the vision only meant for them to go to the medical complex. He noticed a gaggle of pigeons to his right, pecking away at the littered food on the ground. _At least no pigeon will be able to attack her in there…_

"Says who…her _mother_?" Carter scoffed in annoyance."You did the same at Stonybrook."

"That…" Alex faltered, knowing this to be true. "That was different."

Carter huffed in disagreement, trying to set his mind to a different task. He focused his attention on the workmen battering away at the ground, trying to find something remotely violent to look at. His eyes trailed upwards and saw that a few other workmen were fitting in new glass to the complex's exterior. He watched with abstract fascination as two of the crew carefully laid down a large sheet of plated glass and attached suction cups to the sheet. The next step was to attach it to the crane so it could be fitted to the higher stories….

****

****

**_DR FORBES' WAITING AREA_**

****

The heaving drilling from outside had ceased for several minutes, making Nora breathe a sigh of relief. Inside her head was drumming and she couldn't help but think if Dr Forbes was able to concentrate on Tim's teeth. As soon as she shut her eyes, the sound of shattering glass startled her. The faithful mother leapt up from her seat when she saw that a pigeon had crashed right though the window. Jean noticed it too and was quickly on her feet. The pigeon was sprawling around on the floor with reverent panic, startled by the new surroundings. Nora made a brave dive for the bird, trying to ease its pain as Jean knelt down beside her. The bird fidgeted as an exasperated Dr Forbes appeared at the now open door to his surgery.

"What is going on? Get the damned thing a box!" demanded the doctor. Jean fumbled around in a drawer, searching.

"I've got it!" Nora declared, enclosing both hands around the body of the pigeon. _Urgh, it's filthy!_

"I can't find a box," Jean announced, clearly annoyed.

Just behind Nora, the leaking water from the fish aquarium caused an electrical surge in the circuit board…

**_SURGERY ONE, DR FORBES' DEPARTMENT_**

A bleary eyed Tim did not see the Oxygen compressor needle drop from it's steady flow to an alarming zero. To the right, the Nitrous Oxide compressor needle, however, rose up to a high seven. Tim was slowly being poisoned alive! The boy looked up to the ceiling, trying to focus on the mobile of fish rotating in the gentle breeze. His eye sight deteriorated as the Nitrous Oxide flow became more lethal. Suddenly, a puffer fish snapped off the line dangling from the mobile and landed right in Tim's mouth. His eyes widened with the new restriction in his airway. With the ounce of consciousness he had left in him, he used his tongue to try and push the plastic fish out.

Tim began to contract. His breathing was restricted and he was gurgling, as if crying out for help. How he wished he could use his voice. And now his eyes began to glaze over…

Fresh air attacked Tim's airway as an alarmed Jean hovered over him, the puffer fish toy now in her hand. Her eyes widened as she realised what could have happened if she had entered just a moment or two later. A new voice entered the thick, tense air.

"How's Tim doing then?" asked an oblivious Dr Forbes. The pigeon dilemma had been eradicated in the other room and he came in to finish work on Tim. Tim coughed slightly as Jean gave the doctor a terse look from the opposite end of the room.

**_ELLIS MEDICAL COMPLEX_**

"So what did the doctor say about your tooth?" Nora enquired. She knew Tim had been smoking and that he had been lying to her. Maybe now he would own up to the dirty deed. She interlocked her arm with his walking down the steps.

"I don't remember mom," he replied, his tongue gently flicking over the new filling. The metal tasted icky on his receptive taste buds. He screwed his face up at the unsavoury flavour.

"NORA!"

The woman turned around promptly at the mention of her name. It was a man's cry no doubt, but she couldn't trace who it belonged to. Tim squeezed his mother's arm and motioned for her to look in the direction of Kimberly Corman, who was running towards them at a frenzied pace. Officer Burke followed directly behind. Nora realised the voice belonged to the law enforcer. He was dressed in casual clothes with that strange girl from the on-ramp. _What now…?_

Behind Nora and Tim, Carter whacked Alex on the arm as he spotted Kimberly Corman running through the crowd of people gesturing to a blonde mother and her son.

"You were saying…?" said Carter, referring to Alex's vision and it's unique misconception. _Should have known not to trust that little plank's explanation for that fucking vision. _

Alex looked confused as he saw that Kimberly had not exited the medical complex like he had thought would happen after that chilling premonition. Was he wrong…had he misinterpreted? But as he regulated his hearing to what Kimberly was wailing at the woman he realised he couldn't have misunderstood the previous omen. _It wasn't meant for Kimberly after all!_

"The pigeons!" Kimberly yelled loudly, trying to shout across the throng of civilians. Nora looked bemused. She didn't even feel Tim's arm disengaging itself from her vice grip. _Pigeons?_

Tim ran from his mother's side to the large cluster of filthy pigeons directly across the street. How he had always wanted to run through a group of pigeons and send them into a fury! The birds suddenly burst into flight with the sense of Tim's invasion looming. The crane operator saw the scene unfold and the pigeons flew directly across his field of vision.

"Hey kid! Woah…watch it!" he yelled brusquely.

Blindly, one of his hands involuntarily nudged a lever and the sound of derailing metallic chains was clearly audible within seconds.

Neither Alex, Carter, Burke nor one of the workmen could react in time to stop the onslaught of a horrific scene. Tim's head jerked up towards the sky to try and trace where the rattling was coming from. His eyes widened as he realised a heavy sheet of glass was plummeting down on him.

Both Kimberly and Nora let out ear-piercing screams as the glass crashed down on Tim's head. His body collapsed under the extreme weight upon his shoulders and within seconds all that was left of Timothy Carpenter was a mangled, bloodied mess. Passers by gasped in shock as Kimberly flung her eyes to another direction. Before she knew it, Burke had enveloped her in his strong arms.

On the other end of the spectrum, the worker who was operating the crane was trying to restrain Nora from nearing the hazardous area. She was sobbing phrases of denial into the stranger's arms, refusing to comprehend what had just happened to her son. From behind, Carter winced at the sight before him…_Fucking hell_.

**_LATER_**

Kimberly stood upright against an ambulance, her brain trying to come to terms with what had transpired twenty minutes ago. This damned 'design' – as Clear called it – was becoming worse by the day. Her mind blocked out all of the conversation that was taking place between police officers and witnesses behind her. Police cars and ambulances littered the scene and the sky was greying as the afternoon wore on. Thomas Burke soon appeared by her side.

"Nora's not coming," his gentle voice said, bringing Kimberly out of her musings. "She won't leave her son."

"But she's next…" Kimberly objected, obviously displeased about the woman's lack of concern for her own safety. She understood the need for her to grieve for the loss of her son but if she didn't have the right protection for herself she would suffer the same fate. Possibly even, a worse one at that…

"Right now I don't think she cares." Burke added sadly.

Kimberly turned to look behind her, watching as the coroner gently lifted the gurney carrying the remains of Tim's corpse into the back of the ambulance. Vague memories of her mother clouded her mind in thought. She knew what it was like to loose someone you loved. Nora sobbed over the body bag, clutching onto it, not wanting to let go.

"Kimberly."

The brunette wasn't particularly paying attention, the emotional scene of mother saying goodbye to her son had absorbed most of her attention. She turned to face someone who she thought she would never see again.

"Alex." she acknowledged the visionary with a half-hearted smile. In the circumstances, a smile was not the best expression to have on your face at the scene of a horrific accident. She was surprised to see Carter Horton standing next to him though, after he had so vehemently objected to giving her any help whatsoever. Burke moved closer to the girl, interested by the new arrivals. He recognised Alex Browning, from his Flight 180 research – Carter he did not.

"We saw what happened." Carter said, opening up conversation. "We actually came for you."

"Me?" Kimberly replied, surprised. "I thought you didn't want anything to do with me."

Carter said nothing, just shrugged. He wasn't good at apologising for things he had said – or done – earlier. He didn't see a reason for apologies.

"I had a vision," Alex revealed. "I thought the vision was trivial. Meaningless. But they never are. My first thought was of you."

"You two know each other?" Burke interrupted, trying to get the full picture. Alex nodded giving the older man the once over.

"Kimberly came to see us."

"I'm Officer Burke. But you can call me Thomas."

"I'll stick with surnames, if you don't mind…_Burke_." Carter muttered, crossing his arms.

"And you are?" the officer inquired, not in the least bit impressed with the lack of manners on display.

"A tactless asshole." He replied, his gaze quickly turning into a scowl. He then directed that scowl at Kimberly, making sure she knew that he remembered what she had called him earlier that morning.

"What the fuck are we gonna do about this, uh?" he gestured over to the distraught Nora, who climbed into the back of the ambulance with her son and several paramedics. No one answered his question for the answer was pretty obvious. They had to try and stop Death from claiming any more Route 23 survivors. Alex knew they had the strength within them to at least try…

**_CORMAN HOUSEHOLD, MT ABRAHAM_**

Alex took in the familiar scenery of Mt Abraham as Burke's cop car pulled into the driveway of Kimberly's drive way. On the way out they passed their old high school. Alex remembered the memorial service the whole school had to endure in the aftermath of Flight 180. It was a day Alex would never forget. After all, Tod Waggner, his former best friend, was the first to perish in a series of violent deaths. For that incident alone, among others, Alex was determined to defeat Death once and for all. Burke switched off the engine and for several moments the four of them sat in silence.

"Are we going to be sitting in this thing all day?" Carter prompted after the period of silence threatened to drive him crazy. He didn't like the idea of sitting in a cop's car. Kimberly sat in the front passenger seat. She could feel her entire body shaking. She doubted she could sustain the ability to walk into her home.

"This is really happening again isn't it?" she asked aloud, trying to calm her nerves and steady her thoughts. "I thought we'd get there and they'd be fine, that Clear Rivers was full of shit…"

Alex's ears pricked at the mention of her name. "How do you know Clear?"

"She went to visit her," Burke replied, watching Kimberly with closeness. "She went for answers after you two failed to provide her with any."

"And that damned beaver gave her the lot," Carter muttered. Alex shot him a look for the reference and not even Carter's eyes gave a hint of an apology. He could understand where Carter was coming from, though. He didn't want their lives to become the common knowledge, even with someone as quiet as Kimberly Corman knowing the details.

But she was no ordinary citizen. She was someone caught up in Death's sadistic Design. She was a visionary, just like Alex. _I'm seeing what she sees…_ he mused quietly. _But why do our visions differ in description?_ In that moment, Alex only knew of one person who could provide them with an answer…the Mortician Bludworth. Perhaps he ought to bring the subject up…

Kimberly, however felt completely defeated. She had seen a young boy's life taken from him and his mother's ruined in the process. The end for them all was inevitable.

"We're all going to die aren't we?" she questioned, her mind already made up.

"I know you didn't ask for this," Burke countered, giving Alex and Carter a glance in his rear view mirror. "You two didn't either…but I don't think you have it in you to quit. _Any_ of you. Too many lives are at stake."

"He's right," Alex added positively. "Take your fear to sharpen your instincts."

_I've taken my fear,_ Kimberly thought forcefully. _It's made me even more cowardly._

She sighed and looked across the driveway towards her front door. How badly she wanted to go in there, embrace her father, lock herself in her room and slip into oblivion. But hiding was not an option she could take. It would not escape her. It didn't escape Evan or Tim.

Without warning, the passenger seat sun visor dropped down from its still position above her head. The shutter for the mirror was pulled back and Kimberly could see the end of her driveway in it. From the wing mirror she saw someone approaching in a brown leather jacket.

Clear Rivers now stood in front of Kimberly's window. Kimberly averted her gaze from the threatening one Clear had thrown in her direction once she had spotted Alex sitting in the back of the car. Alex was just as surprised as Kimberly. He hadn't expected her to leave Stonybrook so soon.

"Clear?" he said, quickly getting out of the backseat.

Next to where Alex was sitting, Carter rolled his eyes at the reunited lovers. _Bunny lovin' ensured…_

"What are you doing here?" Alex asked pulling the blonde into his arms. "You said you would call when you felt the time was right."

"Kimberly came," Clear replied. "I tried to deny it but now…now is the right time."

Kimberly watched as Alex let go of Clear. Her heart warmed slightly to the sight._ At least for them, there's something to live for in this world…_Strangely, Kimberly gave Burke's presence a thought. How could she think about the need for love in a time like this? Trying to ignore what she knew she already felt building up inside, she turned her attention to Clear.

"Another one just died," she announced, filling her in about Tim Carpenter. "A fifteen year old kid."

"I hope you're ready for this." Clear warned with a faint trace of guilt.

"What happens now?" Burke asked, glancing from one woman to the other.

"We try an' fuck the bastard's list," Carter said, anxious for a fight. His body was full of pent up range – just waiting to be unleashed.

"I've an idea." Alex announced. "I think an old friend is due a visit."

In the cop car Kimberly and Burke exchanged blank looks with each other while Carter sat back, toying with his switchblade. He smirked to himself, knowing that Alex meant the strange Mortician. He shook his head with disbelief.

"Great," he muttered, flicking the blade in and out. "A meeting with the fucked up cryptic-clue man."

CHAPTER EIGHT: YET UNTITLED. APPEARING SOON! (_Yeah, yet ANOTHER long wait for that one, apologies.)_


	8. Bill Bludworth Redux

**_Disclaimer:_**_ Some of the featured dialogue in this chapter is directly from Final Destination 2, so please, don't sue me Mr FD2 screenwriters, I still have no cash to give ANY of you! Any dialogue you don't recognise, Heh, copyright of me. _

**_The Cici Academy would like to thank: _**_Dharke once again. It's always a pleasure to read those brilliant reviews of yours. Am glad you are enjoying it. **Crowe Salvation** glad to see a new reader and one who seems genuinely enthused as you are. I won't bother getting into a slanging match with the anonymous reviewer **Kayleigh** who gave a negative review but that's all part of the parcel I guess. I will say one thing to you though; it is NOT a straight through re-hash of FD2 (if it were Carter and Alex would certainly not be here) and please, it's spelled '**copyright**' not 'copyWrite'. Please learn to fix your own mistakes before trying point out other people's flaws. _

_Sorry for abandoning this fic for so long, I've just been far too busy with college and having what is called a social life. But the more reviews that come, the more I get enthused to start writing again…_

Burke decided that it was best that they ditch the cop car at the Mt Abraham Police Station before travelling out to the Greenfield funeral home. Showing up in a cop car was one thing, but the lack of capacity was the main problem. The small car could not take five passengers without the three in the back suffering from extreme discomfort.

Upon returning to the station to exchange the cop car for Burke's luxurious black jeep, the officer darted inside to get directions to the funeral home. He had a vague idea of where it was but it was time to consult the books - or in this case; the Internet Police Database.

Alex's stomach tightened as exactly twenty minutes later the jeep eased in the gates at Greenfield. The last time he had visited the funeral home he had came to put an end to the suspicion surrounding Tod Waggner's alleged suicide attempt. That visit had propelled him fully into this life he now loathed. Glancing out the window he noticed that in the time he had been living in New York City the place had not changed. It was still eerie looking and the grass was in need of a serious cut.

The jeep passed over the uneven ground and came to a halt several yards outside the entrance. All five inhabitants of the car exited and stood together on the ground. Kimberly cast her eye around her surroundings. _Well this place sure beats Stonybrook on the creep factor. _She shivered, unable to control herself. Burke gave her a concerned glance although she didn't notice.

Alex spoke up first, touching Burke's arm and gesturing ahead of himself. "It's this way."

Dozens of old and broken gravestones were strewn across the unkempt grass. Only a few burials took place at the funeral home whilst the others were done in the more traditional location of church and graveyard.

"How is this guy gonna help us?" Burke said, asking the question he knew Kimberly wanted to ask. He seemed to be doing a lot of speaking up for her lately. Call it his duty to serve and protect…

"He seemed to know a hell of a lot about Death than he ever told those two," Carter replied, referring to Alex and Clear. Carter was directly behind them as they approached the steel door, Kimberly and the Officer bringing up the rear. Alex extended his hand to open the door but felt Burke's hand grab his shoulder.

"Shouldn't you knock first?"

Carter sighed heavily, muttering: "Gimme a fucking break."

"He probably already knows we're coming." Clear clarified ignoring Horton's objection, and nudged Alex's arm, signalling for him to go first. He opened the door and stepped inside, Clear immediately following, then Carter. Kimberly hesitated and glanced at Burke. He gave her a reassuring smile.

"I'm right behind you."

The brunette stayed hesitant, knowing this place was dark, dank and eerie but felt a little more comfortable knowing that Tom would protect her. _Tom._ Wasn't she getting personally attached…? Ignoring the thought, she stepped in and her nostrils immediately smelled fumes. She flinched immediately when Burke pulled the heavy door to a close. _No turning back now…_

The further they edged down the dark tunnel; a warm orange light from the far room was a welcoming contrast. Alex could now smell the fumes - they were venturing down into the furnace! His trained eyes caught the shadow of a figure looming in the room opposite. The visionary walked in first, the others following. Burke took a cautious step towards the furnace strangely seeking some warmth whilst Kimberly rubbed her arms up and down in an attempt to ease her shivering. She turned to see Clear almost crash into Alex as she leapt back to avoid an oncoming metal gurney.

On the opposite end of the steel table, Kimberly spied a tall African-American man clad in dirty blue overalls. This, she guessed, was the Undertaker. In spite of the scenario, he had a huge grin across his face.

"Ah, hello." He announced, obviously pleased at their arrival. "I've been expecting you."

_'He probably already knows we're coming.'_

Kimberly remembered Clear's word of warning at the front entrance – obviously this guy was of some importance. Her weary eyes were drawn to the body on the metal gurney in front of her. She recognised the 'patient' and took a sharp intake of breath:

"Oh my god…"

"That's Evan Lewis," Burke remarked, finishing the sentence off for her.

"Come to pick my brain?" the older man hinted, ignoring the cold corpse of the Lewis kid.

"Just a simple question and we'll leave you alone here with your new 'friend'." Spoke Clear, rather coldly, not in the mood for his over zealous remarks. She was not falling for his act again.

Kimberly sensed that the previous meeting between Clear, Alex and the mortician had not gone smoothly. She averted her gaze away from the blonde to the older man, who had now loomed in closer to her petrified exterior. His gaze bore into hers and for a split second Kimberly felt her surroundings closing in around her.

"Dead. Yet still…fresh!"

He let out a low chuckle, the serious expression his face had once accommodated now eradicated in favour of one more blithe. Alex, however, expected nothing less of the mortician's eerie character trait. He opened his mouth to respond but Carter did it for him.

"We didn't drive here to take your shit," he muttered. "You tell us what we wanna know."

"If you know how to stop Death," Alex interrupted, "It'd be great if you told us."

The mortician shook his head, not wanting to repeat their last conversation. But the boy was so persistent; he gave him the most unsatisfying answer imaginable. "You can't cheat Death. There are no escapes."

"Bullshit." Clear contested. "You told us that Death has a distinct design. But Alex and I cheated Death – not once – but dozens of times. The design is flawed and it _can_ be beaten."

The mortician's slick grin only widened. _It seems the young visionary's persistence has had a rub on effect on Clear Rivers… _He extended a large hand out to the blonde's face but she stepped back, not playing the fool to his macabre warnings. "Such fire in you now." He then cast a look in Alex's direction, holding up a pair of pliers. The young lad shifted uneasily, remembering similar actions he had took to Tod's stricken corpse. The mortician lowered the pliers down towards Evan Lewis' torso and latched the teeth onto the nipple ring.

"People are most alive just before they die – don't you think?"

The next sound was a sickening one. Kimberly was late in shutting her eyes and was not spared the sight of the mortician ripping off Evan's nipple ring along with the attached flesh. The mortician then pushed Evan's body into the scalding furnace for cremation. He began to whistle unceremoniously, turned on his heels and prepared to leave the chamber. In a moment of bravery, perhaps madness, Kimberly jerked her hand out and grabbed a firm hold of the mortician's arm.

"Please," she pleaded helplessly, hoping he would not leave them in the lurch like this. "If you know of anything that could help us…what harm could it do?"

The older man sighed, finally giving into this constant persistence. "Only new life can defeat Death."

"What the hell does that mean?" Burke demanded dubiously, after seeing similar confused looks all around.

"Some people say there is a balance to everything. For every life there's a death; for every death there's a life. But…the introduction of life that was not meant to be…can invalidate the list."

Carter walked between Alex and Clear, peeking over their shoulders.

"What are you waiting for? Get busy."

Clear threw him a pissed off glare, incredulous to the hidden meaning he was suggesting. Alex pushed Carter away, not in the mood for crude remarks. He turned his attention back to the mortician, who now seemed to be taking delightful interest in spooking Kimberly out.

The mortician reached his hand out to Kimberly like had done with Clear earlier. Only this time, he picked up the necklace around the brunette's neck, studying it then her face.

"You have to follow the signs…" he then looked her directly in the eye. "Kimberly."

She swallowed hard. "How do you know my name?"

The mortician dropped the delicate necklace from his palm and threw a sick smile in the direction of the original Flight 180 survivors. There was no hidden meaning to his flamboyant gesture but Carter had already had enough.

"I say we get the fuck out of here." he remarked, already half way up the darkened corridor they had entered through earlier. Clear gave Alex an apprehensive glance before following with Burke and Kimberly ahead of her.

"Bludworth." Alex said, turning back, leaving the others to exit.

"I doubt that what I'm going to ask you is coincidental – which is inconceivable but…is there a reason that the detail in my premonitions differ from Kimberly's? And I'm not talking minor differences…but quite substantial ones..."

"I don't have the answer for you, Alex."

The visionary cracked a short, disbelieving smile. "Don't play me with that bullshit. Tell me why."

"I think we've had enough discussion for one day, don't you think?" he dismissed, coolly, as if telling a child that there would be no more playing with the crayons.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing…trying to have less to do with us that you already do. And believe me it's not going to work."

"Don't forget to drop by again, Alexander."

_'The introduction of new life that was not meant to be…can invalidate the list…'_

The more Alex visited Bludworth; the mortician's cryptic clues were becoming more enigmatic upon every visit. He tossed the clue around in his head, trying to decipher its hidden meaning. _If there is one…_ He stood outside the entrance to the small convenience store directly across from a garage. Clear had gone in to get some supplies while Burke filled up the car. Carter was also there, trying _not _to interact with their new allies.

Alex watched Kimberly with ardent fascination. Her paper thin and fragile exterior made her appear to be one of those people who could easily be knocked over by a gust of wind. She was scared and it didn't take a clairvoyant to realise those cold, hard facts. He remembered feeling the exact same way in the beginning… _The beginning_. It seemed an age since the fateful, life-changing night of the Flight 180 tragedy. He shuffled his hands into his pockets, not hearing the bell above the store's entrance jingle, signalling the exit of a patron. _I want to start a new life…_ he fidgeted with the small black box in his pocket. If he could keep it hidden, perhaps Carter would forget his little "discovery".

That patron turned out to be Clear. She touched him on the arm, getting his attention. She then immediately thrust a bottle of water into his hand. He smiled an appreciative glance in her direction.

"You look like you need a drink."

"It's not strong enough…thanks, anyway."

He let out a puffy breath towards the sky, his breath tickling the tips of his blonde hair, making it flutter slightly. He then proceeded to run his hand through his hair, a mannerism that Clear knew all too well. He was tired but still planning the next logical step. _You think too much…_

"Are you alright?"

He heard the concern but didn't respond. _Clear…I was wondering…no forget it!_ The thought of just asking a simple question freaked him out.

After a moment's hesitation; "What? Oh yeah, sure…I, uh…sure."

"You don't sound too sure."

"Just drop it, Clear!" He snapped suddenly, instantly regretting it. His expression softened at the sight of her fallen expression. He hated making people uneasy, especially his own _fiancée_.

_Woah that sounded weird._

"I didn't mean that. Forget it…" He let go of the box in his pocket. _Carter was right…it wasn't the right time. Would it ever be? _He gestured over to the others. "Let's uh, see what they're talking about."

He left the entrance and made his way down to the asphalt where Burke was filling up his car. Carter slouched against the trunk of the car, obviously bored. Or just being plain anti-social.

"Hey, _Horton_." Alex called, tossing him a bottle of Evian water. "I thought I told you took look for anything ominous."

Carter replied with the finger. "Not my style, _Browning_."

"It's alright, I'll do it." Clear interrupted, handing the bag over to Alex. "What did you talk to Bludworth about?"

"Nothing important. Besides, I never got the answer I was looking for – if you could call 'I don't have the answer for you' a suitable response."

Burke teetered the nozzle from the fuel pump and replaced it in its slot, finished with the refuelling process.

"'New life beats death'...'follow the signs'?" expressing his obvious confusion, the straight-laced officer asked: "Where did you find _that_ guy?"

"Yeah, I thought he was meant to help us not freak us out." Agreed Kimberly.

"He can actually be of some use." Alex interrupted. He glanced at Carter, looking for him to back him up on the subject.

Shrugging he said: "As long as you decipher the fuckin' cryptic clue that comes with it, he's a pretty useful guy."

"But I don't understand the things he says," Kimberly input. "I mean, all these clues…what's the…"

The brunette was cut off by an uproar behind her: "What the _fuck_ are you thinking'!"

The group whirled around to find that the shout came from Clear. Carter watched, sniggering to himself as she whacked a skater kid across the back of the head. His fingers twitched in sheer anticipation as to what would transpire next. Carter just grinned at the thought whilst Alex watched the scene unfold, ready to nudge Carter's arm should this turn ugly. Burke also couldn't help but chuckle to himself. A couple of skater kids had exited the convenience store Clear had been in previously. The one Clear decided to pick an argument with had a lighter in his hand, ready to spark up a cigarette.

The teen in question turned to face Clear, dropping the cigarette from his mouth. "I'm thinking: suck on my junk, biatch!" His friends sneered, fully enjoying their 'leader's' comeback. Clear herself smiled in spite of the situation. If that spark ignited with any of leaked fuel pumps then it'd all be over.

"Little punk."

Their leader was about to hurl another insult but instantly regretted the idea once he caught the infamous Death Scowl from Carter Horton. Seeing this as their 'clue' to move on they did, quickly – not even glanced once in Carter's direction.

The jock smirked wryly. _Nice try…_

Burke turned to face Kimberly, in his mind's eye he could picture her finding some small amusement in the scenario that just transpired, however she looked far from amused. "Kimberly…?"

She took a sharp intake of breath as he tried to take a step towards her, scrunching her eyes tightly shut – shutting his concerned profile off. Before he could realise what was happening, Alex also let out a sharp pain. _What the hell…?_

"Alex…? Are you alright?" Clear asked, rushing to her boyfriend's side as he leant against Burke's jeep, trying to concentrate.

Carter knew it didn't take a genius to work out that Alex and the ever-annoying Kimba were sharing visions. After all, Alex did mention something about it back at the apartment. Carter decided he was smart to remember things that way…meaning he didn't have to think on his own. Oh how he loved the irony.

"What – are they…?" the officer asked, obviously not a clue as to what was happening.

Carter nodded, muttering slightly. _Don't I do enough around here, already?_ "Yep; they're _sharing _visions. It doesn't take Einstein to work that one out, Officer Genius"

_-…Bloody masculine hands controlling a steering wheel…white van crashing into a lake…sinking… -_

_- White van…blood-stained feminine hands trying to gain the vehicle's control…out of luck…van hits…hitting rock bottom -_

Simultaneously, Kimberly and Alex's visions ended. Burke watched as Kimberly started spluttering. _Was she choking? _He glanced over to Alex, watching him open his eyes, breathless as well.

Carter, remembering Alex's previous instructions on looking out for ominous signs, took a quick glance around the gas station. Right behind them on the freeway, two automobiles almost collided. Two workmen to his immediate left trying to interfere with a vicious powerline, several yards behind them a man toppled over a cylinder of propane…there were far too many conflicting signs to keep track of. _Wtf..? _Rolling his eyes, he turned back to the group and sauntered over to Clear and Alex and hunched down to look directly at Alex…

"Okay Mr Visionary…who's next?" the question was simple, however the answer…

"I'm not sure…there was a, uh, white van crashing into a…"

"Lake…" he heard Kimberly finish for him. Carter looked over his shoulder as Kimberly and Burke made their way over. He stood.

Burke faced Kimberly. "What did you see?"

"The same as Alex," she replied, gesturing to him. "A van crashing into a lake."

"You recognise the driver?"

"No, but it was definitely a male."

"Wait a second –" interrupted Alex, getting to his feet. "In my vision, the driver was female."

Kimberly remembered Alex saying something about his last premonition being trivial – not much detail – but these two new visions were a total contrast. A quiet mumble resounded amongst the group. It came from Carter…

"Oh no, this is _bullshit_!"

"What _is_?" Burke asked, wanting to know the full details.

"The visions are different." Alex simply concluded.

Carter pretended to knock on the blond's forehead, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Congrat-u-fuckin'-lations, shithead."

"How do we know who's vision is the correct one?" Clear asked.

"We don't. At least that's what Bludworth tells me."

"_Bludworth?_" Carter fumed, incredulous.

"It felt like I was there," Alex began, ignoring the jock's outburst. "As if I were the one driving."

"Are you sure you weren't? I mean, Kim did _say_ it was a male driver."

"I hope you're not suggesting-"

"Hey _Burke_," Carter cut Clear off, "What makes you think hers was right? We've dealt with this crap for the past two fuckin' years…we know Browning here a lot better that you do and I say his is right."

"Do you think it's one of us?" pitched Clear, looking to Alex for some kind of response.

"I think its Nora…I mean she's _meant_ to be next."

Burke folded his arms, trying to make sense of all the existing information. He was having a hard enough time trying to get his head around the concept of cheating Death never mind premonitions!

"Hey wait a second," he exclaimed, as if remembering he forgotten to switch off the oven at home. "Remember the on-ramp? There was a pregnant woman with a white delivery van…perhaps _she's_ the solution we've been looking for."

"'Only new life defeats Death'…" whispered Alex, recalling the old mortician's cryptic musings. "If she gives birth to her baby which _would_ have died in that car crash…"

"…A brand new soul that was never part of Death's design…"

"The whole fuckin' list is thrown out of whack and we start off with a clean slate." Carter finished for both Alex and Clear. Wow, he really was smart at this shit.

Burke gave a wry smile. _This all sounds TOO easy…_ "Seems a bit of a reach, don't you think?"

"What else could it mean?"

"We have to find that woman's number." Insisted Kimberly. If this could put an end to her nightmare, then so be it. She was willing to grab the chance and get her life back.

Burke shook his head. "I don't have it. She never came to the station."

"We have to find her so we can warn her about the lake so she can stay alive long enough to have a baby."

Carter scoffed at the brunette, breaking into a smirk. "You think that'll be an easy conversation?"

"But what about the visions?" asked Clear. "Incase you forgot, they don't match."

"We have to go on this lead," stated Alex. "It could be our chance to get our lives back, Clear."

CHAPTER NINE: YET UNTITLED. APPEARING SOON! (_With, hopefully, not other LONG wait. g)_


End file.
